


Founding a Life

by SofiaDragon



Series: Another Turn of the Wheel [3]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Frigga (Marvel), Coming of Age, Deer Hunting, F/M, Fictional Religion & Theology, Frenemies, Frigga is best mom, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Jotunn biology, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki and Sif do not get along well, Loki tries to fit Odin's mold, Moving Out, Odin is a good dad, One-Sided Attraction, Political Alliances, Protective Frigga (Marvel), References to Depression, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Self-Discovery, Teen Romance, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, backstabbing, but that is progress, for like five minutes, trying to fit in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-01 17:25:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 115,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SofiaDragon/pseuds/SofiaDragon
Summary: Loki comes home from his trip and tries to resolve his issues. Unfortunately, he has to balance his response with the possible political fallout. He has more friends than he ever knew, and they aren't necessarily helping his situation. A discovery inspires him toward a goal, and the possibility of Odin's approval is a sweet fruit hanging just out of reach.





	1. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a good night's sleep and a hot bath.

Loki stepped out into the brightly lit forest, tired but with a bone-deep joy and relief at his homecoming fueling him. It took a moment to swap the sheer dress for traveling leathers, and then there was no hint that he'd left the realm. He used his magic to teleport himself along, covering as much ground as a galloping horse in line-of-sight jumps until it started to get dark. He practically skipped into an inn at a crossroad. Inside he sat down to a meal of freshly baked bread, slow-roasted chicken, and a bright fruity cider. Local woodsmen filtered in and had their own meals as the remaining suns set, and with time someone started playing a fiddle. Several people greeted him gladly, professing their good wishes to the royal family. Loki responded by putting a few coins toward everyone's bill, allowing the scattered families that were in attendance to spend it on summer sweets instead of drink. When the cheer from the round of mead most of the men bought died down the fiddler came over and started up a traditional song. Loki pulled out his flute and joined in the old folk song as several voices took up the well-known lyrics. This was Asgard at it's very best. Simple but delicious food, a gathering of individuals who fought hard for everything they had, a shared song, and the smell of fresh baked pies. The early evening turned into night, the innkeeper's daughter graced him with a pretty and inviting smile, and he slept quite well considering he'd ended up alone in a cheap, smallish bed.

The next morning he gave the young woman a smile as she exited a barn. He almost barked a laugh: the naked lumberjack scuttling out after her was more twig than log and never mind how big his biceps were. Loki wondered how long it would take him to get his clothes out of the tree, but wasn't amused enough to stay and watch. The man had pressed the young woman more than Loki thought had been right, though she had turned from Loki to him of her own will initially, and the look in her eyes as she paused on her way home to curtsy seemed to confirm it. Still, if she did not speak up in direct complaint Loki could not act as a voice of law. He dawdled only long enough to give her a chance to think over the matter before setting himself on the road again, the last sun having just cleared the horizon.

He could see that Gladsheim was busy with activity from a mile off, and it took him a bit of thought to realize it was Friday and not Wednesday due to the differing calendar and clock. Asgard had a five day work week with two days rest instead of six and one, so the city was preparing to switch it's industry from production to pleasure and trade. Friday was a busy day of setup and shutdown. Guild halls and craftsmen were finishing up their week's work and cleaning out their workspaces. Minstrels and street performers would be about, looking to earn some coin during the weekend to bring home to their families. It was well past noon and many were either just arriving to the city or running a few last errands before leaving their weekday employment. Many people were driving carts full of wears into the city to stock the market stalls for tomorrow morning and would return to their homes in the country Sunday night with their profits. Loki walked alongside the line of carts for a time, the country folk giving him a little bow or salute as he passed. The guards checking the seals and trademarks against names of towns and contents of carts to ensure it was all lawful trade paused in their work to salute him as he walked through the gate unhindered. The leathers he wore today had the emblems of his rank on his breast, though they knew him well enough it wasn't strictly necessary. A Prince was not expected to queue in a line like a commoner after all.

Even with the markings of rank his black and green traveling leathers were not flashy enough to gain huge amounts of attention. Those who lived in Gladsheim were accustomed enough to seeing him walking about that they gave him a more respectful nod of greeting and a bit more personal space than they gave other members of the upper class, but that was all. Those from the country were more affected, and spotted his emerald green jacket with excitement, but by and large he walked with the thick crowds of busy people rather than through them. He felt warm right down to his bones for the first time since he'd left and he was among his people, so he was happy.

Loki was being followed of course. He diverted his path from the main road that fed straight into the palace's front gate to loop through a public park. The manicured flowerbeds and trees were artfully arraigned in various symbolic ways, as this particular park was maintained by sorceresses who lived and studied in the palace's mage wing. It was a riot of bright summer flowers, more vibrant colors in just one bed than he'd seen in the past few weeks by far. He settled down beneath a large tree and looked around expectantly. Almost as soon as he got comfortable the children started to gather. The respectful distance the older ones had enforced as he walked was forgotten as the children of Gladsheim gathered around him, not quite jumping onto his lap. He swallowed back the distasteful memory of Lao's children and focused on the moment. The children in the park were generally between two and four hundred. Their mothers wouldn't have time for lessons on this busy day, so they were free to roam about and play as they wished within the park. The scattering of older ones had either begged off whatever task they'd been set to follow him, or else were girls slightly too young for their coming out parties tasked with watching the little ones.

Men may not be welcome to participate in the artistic contests and pageants the sorceresses his age filled their time with, but that didn't mean Loki hadn't tried. He'd gone so far as to give his presentation anyway, after he'd been refused entry into the building, openly in the city street. Ever since that colorful display, the children of the city had taken to following him in hopes of another performance. Loki didn't see why not, so he used small illusions to illustrate popular children's tales or enhance their games when the mood struck him. Today they were begging for a story from his travels, and there was no way he was going to comply with that, so he started to sing instead. It was a traditional temple song he'd heard from the cradle, and the children sang along with him. When that was done he conjured up bubbles and smoky illusions of dragons that the children happily chased while he rested his legs. The eldest girl, he thought her name was Sara, was only a little shorter than him at six hundred years old. She tried to mimic his bubbles and ended up with something milky that plopped on the ground like cold gravy. He told her to keep trying, as she had a few years yet to take the entrance tests and become a proper sorceress. She beamed at the implicit praise and made a few more splatters before getting distracted by a play fight between two boys becoming something more serious. Loki stood and continued his walk home.

He kept conjuring the bubbles as he walked through the park, but didn't tempt the smaller children into disobedience by continuing once he was back on the street. He looped around to a side entrance by walking through the lower-class section of the city. It was quiet there with the children in the park and the parents all at work, but the simple little apartments were just as welcome a sight as the rest of the city. The orderly, terraced layout of the city made several intersecting ovals when viewed from above, the largest ringing the palace. Within that boundary the central district of support industries in the East and North was separated from the wealthiest households to the South and the barracks and training grounds to the West by wide roads. Like all of Gladsheim, the streets here were clean and smooth with regular lampposts and drains. The servant class lived packed tightly together, the many doors identical save for a few decorative markings their owners made… not unlike the street that housed Odaric's small apartment.

Loki shook off the thoughts and swept up to his own chambers through golden hallways, calling for Sven to draw his bath. He dumped out his hiding place onto his bedroom floor, filling the large room's floorspace and even covering part of the bed. The first time he'd done this was several years after he'd made the pocket of mage space and he'd nearly squished himself under the clutter. He hadn't kept good track of what he'd been storing at first and ended up forgetting most of what he'd put in there. Since then, Loki was more careful and made this something of a yearly ritual. The more recently used items tended to be on the top when he dumped it out. Half the Jotun money he'd traded for was in the bedding of Odaric's spare room, more than fair payment for hospitality considering that the man asked for nothing and had likely been compensated for caring for a foundling by the city. There were a few holdings here in Asgard that did that, but a system of paying people for taking in abandoned children they couldn't otherwise afford seemed easy to abuse. Orphanages were much easier to police, and it did seem like Glyn was running an official orphanage even if that specific word had never been used. Odaric was authorized to do what he did, and on second thought the man had no living heir so perhaps…

Loki stuffed the remaining Jotun money back into his hiding place and continued to sort out the large pile of supplies. He leaned the rolled-up tent against a wall near the door for cleaning and dropped his used clothing into a hamper. Bits of trash, mostly the brown paper wrappings from various meals, were tossed into a waste basket. The clean clothing, including his grandmother's blue dress that had been carefully laundered in Tonder, was laid out neatly on the bed. Tools that needed service were neatly stacked on a side table and those that didn't were put on another to be returned to his workshop. He had three writing kits in the pile and mentally scolded himself for picking up the third one. Vaguely he remembered Sven had included an extra one when he'd delivered travel supplies to the Queen's rooms, but there really wasn't an excuse for three. Those went on his desk in the front room. He tucked the box with the distressing letter away again along with his weapons and a few other essentials that did not currently need service and almost never left his person.

It took him a while to put all his things into neat piles in this manner, but the ritual was calming. A fair amount of dirt was left on the floor, the mage-space equivalent of a year's worth of pocket lint. He wasn't sure what he should do with the sheer green dress he'd been wearing when he left Jotunheim. The sea green fabric was scandalously sheer even if the skirt was to the knee, with only the most necessary part fully obscured (and that was only after one considered that Jotnar didn't have breasts to bother covering.) Just having it in his closet was risky, since even his servants talked a little. Then again, given the events leading up to his disappearance, he might want them to. After a few moments consideration he tossed it into the hamper. That ought to cause quite a ruckus among the palace staff. He hoped the washer-women came up with some amusing theories as to how their prince came to own such a trophy. He put his notebooks in a stack on his bedside table where he knew they would not be touched.

When he'd turned the haphazard waist-high pile of supplies into acceptably organized sections he slipped into the bath to wash away the dust from the road. He could hear his servants moving about in the other rooms as he bathed, and there was a stifled sound he would bet good money had to do with the hamper being emptied. Once he was clean and dry he padded into his bedroom to see much of the clutter removed, most of it either taken to be cleaned or refilled before it would be properly put away. The leftover salted meats and cheeses were gone, soon to make an appearance in his servant's pantries. They wouldn't need them now with the bounty of summer keeping food prices low, but come winter the preserved food would be appreciated. Loki remembered the housekeeping spells and the last of the dusty scent that lingered after they swept up vanished. He dressed in a soft green linen tunic and sturdy trousers, but ignored his vests and other adornments in favor of soft leather house shoes and left his slightly too-long hair loose. Loki was home, and he had no intentions of leaving the royal household, let alone the palace, for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

Loki made the short walk down the hall and knocked on Thor's door with his hair still a bit damp. The royal household was a section of apartments in one of the palace's segmented spires that served as their private home. Mother had always stressed that once they passed through the heavy doors that separated it from the rest of the palace they should shed their titles and act as a family as much as possible, leaving much of their rank at the threshold. That wasn't exactly enforced, though Father did try to call Loki and Thor to his office before giving them royal orders or handling any business. Loki had a habit of going to visit members of the peerage at their own offices instead of inviting them into his apartment, but once he'd set up his workshop in what had originally been his office and moved his desk into the front room he ended up doing a lot of work in his chambers as opposed to the mage's wing. Thor also broke the illusion by meeting with various military officials in his front room and porch, though in his case he tended to act the same both in public and private life anyway.

"Loki!" Thor boomed when a servant opened the door, "Welcome back. Father said you went camping this year."

"I think I burnt out my desire for excitement," Loki sighed, "so I decided on a rather boring bit of hunting and fishing for my leisure trip this year." Thor burst out laughing and guided Loki into his front room with customary aggressiveness.

"I did not think such was possible for you, brother," Thor chuckled. His front room was adorned with hunting trophies and over-sized seating in rich leather and brass. Hogun and Fandral were seated on one couch with a map spread out in front of them. Volstagg had a plate of nuts on a side table next to his armchair and looked to have just finished sharpening his ax judging by the mess on the floor. Sif was perched on another chair enjoying some wine, while the others had cups of mild ale or cider. Loki settled into one side of another wide couch next to his brother, Thor's hand still on his shoulder.

"Do we need to do something to Samson?" Hogan asked bluntly. Thor and Volstagg's faces scrunched up in puzzlement and Fandral's eyes bugged open. Sif's eyes darted around in clear surprise. As the quietest of the bunch Loki was a bit shocked he'd been the one to speak first, and doubly surprised at the rather protective offer.

"I believe Mother had that well in hand when I left. Has she not dealt with him properly?" Loki asked.

"Not that I have heard," Hogun shrugged, "but I have not been in a position to hear of it one way or the other."

"I just got home and haven't yet spoken to her. I'd appreciate the support if something needs to be done, but it may have been taken care of already," Loki shrugged and leaned back into the couch.

"Samson?" Thor muttered. "Who?"

"The ergi pedophile," Fandral supplied. "I hadn't thought… Well, I see why you made yourself scarce." Thor sputtered for a moment.

"It was my aim to have the whole thing dealt with as simply as it could be considering the situation," Loki soothed before Thor could find his voice. "Nothing of substance happened, truly."

"Something must have happened. You pinned him to a wall," Sif scoffed.

"You'd do much the same if some disgusting old man was drooling over you," Loki suggested.

"You should have done more," Thor began, but Loki cut him off.

"I told mother, and she told father, and I'm quite certain the issue has been addressed in some fashion if not properly settled in my absence. I may have even settled it myself, as I wasn't terribly careful with my blades around his groin." That caused a bark of bloodthirsty laughter.

"So you weren't ill?" Volstagg asked, giving Loki a wink. "Thor said you'd fallen ill before. Caught something from that maiden, am I right?"

"No, not… I didn't catch a venereal disease!" Loki protested.

"A blood illness, they said it was," Sif said thoughtfully. "Though I heard plenty of talk about an ended pregnancy."

"What?" Thor and Loki shouted together.

"That was the rumor," Sif shrugged, giving Loki a sharp look.

"I miscast a spell," Loki huffed in obvious irritation. "I was upset and I made a silly mistake. It had nothing to do with Lydia. Well, nothing other than being a bother. I needed the isolation room, she didn't," he lied, "and Mother wasn't going to put Eir's student out on the street." Thor shifted next to him, and Loki hoped his brother wouldn't call him out on the lie.

"You were distressingly wounded when I saw you last," Thor said instead. "If you had told me that it was the fault of that honor-less cur, I'd have challenged him to a duel."

"Ah, yes, to defend the honor of your little sister," Loki deadpanned. Thor turned red and sputtered. Sif stifled a laugh. "You'd have done more harm than good, Thor, had you attacked him. Please, I'll check with what Mother has done to contain him and then settle my grievances myself if needed. It is entirely possible that the situation is already well handled." He pat Thor on the shoulder. "I'm not that much younger than you; I can and did defend myself. He didn't touch me, and I was only hurt because of what I did to myself in the following hours," Loki soothed with the same cordial air he used to defuse arguments at court.

"He ought to be laid out in the dueling ring," Fandral scoffed.

"Aye," Volstagg growled, "I'd not want such a man walking free."

"I will if I must," Loki agreed, "but he is a highborn lord with friends. Furthermore, the vile things he said indicated he had compatriots. If true it is far better they are all neutralized than just the one. I always go off on a trip this time of year, but honestly if I had stayed I don't know that I would be responsible for what I would have done. Better to have a couple weeks of distance from it if there is some investigation left unfinished I must undertake."

"You have my blade," Fandral offered.

"Thank you," Loki said, surprised. Hogun and Volstagg murmured agreement.

"You… want to get rid of the other ergi men?" Sif asked, an odd tilt to her head. "Really?"

"Sif," Thor warned.

"Clearly, no one in this room has a problem with people taking unconventional career paths," Loki scoffed with a gesture to the sword at Sif's side, then continued boldly, "nor do I have a problem with men that prefer each other's company. My trouble is with those who would press themselves on those who do not want it, or on those not of proper age. There are good reasons for the age gap limits on people under a thousand, and willingness aside that will always be the more serious offense."

"Wouldn't want to turn your own paramour out, eh?" Volstagg chuckled.

"Do not speak of my brother that way," Thor said weakly. Loki looked over the warriors.

"I think Volstagg was just attempting to be kind to me," Loki said with clear surprise. "Though he failed utterly, in the clumsy manner he is known for. However, my romantic troubles do not stem from needing to hide some unpopular taste and are more likely to stem from Thor stealing all the best women in the realm. I don't get much chance before they catch sight of him, and then they don't look again in my direction."

"Come now, brother, that is hardly my fault," Thor whined.

"Oh, and you did not steal that redheaded one out from under me? She was such a delightful dancer."

"I… well…" Thor sulked.

"Weeks later, and you even know the woman I am talking about. I'd accuse you of doing it on purpose if I didn't know better," Loki huffed and stole a couple nuts from Volstagg. "You wonder why I don't join you at feasts more often."

"You don't bed any sorceresses, either," Fandral pointed out.

"I'd rather go down to that end of the Hall and spend the night with friends than spend the evening catching the eye of a dancer only to have her turn from me," Loki defended.

"You can't be friends with all the sorceresses," Volstagg chuckled.

"More than you might guess. Besides, if one of them chose to spite me in the morning light, none would have me again. I do have to work with some of them regularly and that would be unfortunate. Even if the offense was not my fault, the mage's wing is quite close-knit. Far better to remain the proper gentleman, even when I am accused of chasing men," Loki shrugged. "At least then, when I'm ready for something more serious I'll have the chance at a woman worth the position."

"Planning a bit far ahead, aren't you?" Volstagg accused.

"Really, brother, that's not very believable," Thor chuckled.

"You do know I like children," Loki offered, crossing his arms. "I have no intention of following in our Father's pattern of waiting to have some of my own until I am old enough to be a grandfather. I am merely being cautious not to burn any bridges." The whole room was looking at him is disbelief. "Volstagg, you are a father."

"I am, but I wasn't thinking about becoming one at your age," the man huffed. "It just happened, after Gudrun and I got married."

"I'm certain if you asked Thor or myself nicely we could explain how children 'happened' to you," Loki prodded with a sly smile.

"Oh, I have not forgiven you for that," Thor moaned.

"For what now?" Fandral asked. Sif leaned in, interested.

"Our father assumed that my healer's training covered all the lessons a man gives his sons on that delicate subject, while Eir had considered me much too young to learn those things in the extreme detail healers are meant to when I took my first lessons from her," Loki said with a large grin. "Of course I was hardly ignorant of the basics, but while I was ill the oversight came to light. Mother was so upset I spent the whole of my bed-rest catching up on what I missed. Then she had Eir join in to polish up my healer's training by pushing me through the beginnings of the gynecology and midwifery courses. Thor said a few words out of place, and ended up sitting right next to me through the lot." The three men laughed, and Sif's eyebrows looked ready to fly off.

"Gynecology?" Sif asked, disbelieving.

"I'm a Journeyman Healer, general knowledge in that area is part of the required training to advance from the field medic branch to full Healer status."

"So now you have children on your mind," Fandral chuckled. "Well, whatever keeps your fire burning."

"I did not need such instruction," Thor pouted. "I never thought I'd find a woman's body distasteful."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Loki teased. Thor gave him a dubious look. Loki adopted a thoughtful look. "I saw a birth while I was out. A commoner's family. It was… adorable. It's a bloody mess, as bad as any field of battle, but the babe… Perhaps I am planning a bit far ahead, but I don't see how that is to my detriment. In any case, I decided long ago that if I'm taking a woman to bed for only one night, it will not be from the mage's wing."

"You assisted a birth?" Sif asked, scooting forward to give him an assessing look. "How did that go?"

"The child was in distress, or I wouldn't have been involved," Loki admitted, and took a breath. He regretted bringing it up. The warriors three were giving him dubious looks, as they always did when his magical abilities were the topic of discussion. It had been a stress relief to speak so freely on Jotunheim, but now he was talking to people he would have to live with and it was tying his stomach in knots. With how relieved he'd felt to be home, he rather resented the contrast. Sif seemed fine with it, at least. "It was an easy birth, her third child, but it didn't cry. It took a bit of magic, just a simple supply of life energy rather than anything complex and delicate, but given the sheer volume of power involved it proved quite the endurance test. It's color came up after about half an hour. When I eventually left she had proved to have strong lungs and a healthy appetite."

"You saved a child's life?" Thor asked.

"Is that so unbelievable?"

"Well, something good came from it, I suppose," Thor sighed. "I still wish I hadn't had to endure lessons on… on such things."

"That level of detail isn't for everyone," Loki shrugged.

"Bah," Volstagg scoffed, "that's not even the worst part of having children. Not that it isn't a fair bit of work bringing them into this world, but unless you stayed long enough to change diapers and clean up sick I wouldn't pat yourself on the back too hard."

"The afterbirth and the day's worth of squalling mess I endured after was trial enough of such things for me, at least for the next dozen decades," Loki countered.

"After… birth?" Fandral questioned.

"Can we please speak of something else," Thor sighed, scrubbing his face. "I was trying to forget those images."

"Come now, brother, it's just an excess of blood and flesh," Loki prodded, "and good clean flesh at that, unless there was some additional illness. Some traditions call for the mother to eat it."

"Now I've lost my appetite for the evening," Thor huffed. Fandral still looked confused and Volstagg looked stricken. Hogun was quiet and reserved as usual, but Sif looked positively green.

"She ate the… the afterbirth?" Sif stuttered.

"No, but I now know how to prepare it should that be requested. Not part of the standard training, I don't think, but by that point I think Eir was punishing Thor for being boorish," Loki quipped.

"I was not!"

"You were. You whined the whole time over it being unnecessary for you to know any of it," Loki argued.

"How could it not be?" Fandral asked.

"Knowing how it all works may not be helpful in catching a woman, but some of it is quite useful in keeping one as far as mother tells it. Perhaps we don't need the bulk of that knowledge in our daily lives as Sif one day might, but it has uses. Heaven forbid either of us end up raising a daughter without a wife, we would still be able to raise her properly," Loki supposed.

"I know how childbirth should go," Hogun added. "Not how to aid in a difficult birth or anything about healing a struggling infant, but I wouldn't be at a loss if I had to aid my family if I had to. Vanir women reclaim the unused nourishment in the afterbirth. It is considered healthful."

"It's not much different than preparing any other meat," Loki shrugged.

"I think I'll pass on any form of cannibalism. Especially self-cannibalism," Sif muttered, shaking her head.

"Well… we were talking about the upcoming hunt," Fandral said awkwardly. "So…"

"Yes, the hunt!" Thor chimed in, reaching out to turn the map toward him. Eager to drop the subject, he started tracing the forest paths with a finger. "We took this trail last time."

"It was a good hunt. Five stags and a fox," Fandral boasted.

"Aye, it would be a good start," Volstagg agreed around a mouthful of nuts.

"We won't find much on that trail this year," Loki countered. "I went up this way, and there was evidence of wolves on the move here and here. I think the bilgesnipes have started nesting somewhere to the east of these hills again and pushed the other animals out of their normal paths. If we want deer we'll have to shift to the west or else try along ridge."

"We could go after the bilgesnipes themselves," Sif suggested.

"They would make good trophies," Volstagg agreed.

"We'd have to double back to find a heard," Loki pointed out. "We can't bring just bilgesnipes back, their meat is not fit for the harvest table."

"They can't be too far off their grazing fields," Fandral countered.

"I saw no sign of them," Loki shrugged, "and the wolves were moving fast enough that they must have empty stomachs. I hadn't been trying to track them, but I saw no deer or fox during my whole trip. The foresters that work in the area reported similar things when I spoke with them just last evening. The Harvest Festival is only one week, and we can't be in the forest for all of it. If we move fast enough to reach both we'll be moving too loudly."

"We could find the nest beforehand," Volstagg suggested. "If they aren't too deep into the wood."

"It would aid the other hunters," Sif thought aloud, leaning back and taking a sip of her drink. "If we could take them out quickly enough everyone would benefit."

"Do you know where they are nesting, brother?" Thor asked.

"No, I don't think I got close enough to their territory. I went up this way, and along these hills, then back this way home," Loki traced his path.

"Just that? You were gone nearly two months!" Fandral laughed.

"If you count the time I was studying with Eir and my time with the commoner's family. I told you, it was just a simple trip to clear my head," Loki parried. Thor clapped him on the back suddenly.

"It is some information, at least. We can try and flush these out quickly before the Harvest Festival and then get some good meat for the feast during," Thor declared. "We will leave in the morning."

"Well, good luck to you, then," Loki sighed. "Tracking them down in time will be tricky. Those hills have too many secluded ponds and hidden caves to make for a speedy search. I'd suggest bringing a few extra hunters to help sweep the area, or you won't make it back for weeks."

"You will be coming with us, of course," Thor corrected. Loki's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I will? I've only just gotten back. I haven't looked at it in detail yet, but there is quite a stack of paper on my desk," Loki sighed. "I'll need at least the morning to handle it, even if there isn't anything surprising."

"Come now, brother, there can't be anything so urgent," Thor scoffed.

"I can't know that yet," Loki repeated, "I haven't looked. How has your hold been running? All well?"

"Well, I suppose. I have not heard otherwise."

"Then I should be able to clear my desk easily, but I still need to speak with Mother and Father. They may have some plan for me that will keep me longer," Loki shrugged and stood. "I'll get a start on it now, if I can. Do you know if Mother is busy this afternoon?"

"She has been weaving of late," Thor said, not looking up from the map.

"I'll see if she answers, and if not I'll be at my desk," Loki told them. "Dinner is at sundown, right?"

"Aye, but there is no assembly. We will be dining here if you wish to join us," Thor offered.

"I'll likely dine with our parents, then. I really must talk with Father. It's not exactly court business, so Mother shouldn't scold me for bringing it up at the table."

"You'll tell us if that honor-less pig needs slaying?" Fandral asked.

"Of course." Loki left his brother's chambers and continued down the curved hallway to the Queen's chambers. A servant welcomed him in and told him the All-Mother was expecting him. He could hear the rhythmic sound of the loom as soon as he stepped inside. The doors were open in the front room, sitting room, and into his mother's sanctuary. The loom had an impressively complicated project carefully folded and large enough Loki thought it might nearly be complete. Mother swayed gracefully as she moved across the loom, taking four small steps in either direction as she wove the fine threads in a complicated pattern. He stood quietly and watched her hands flutter over the loom, precise and delicate.

"Welcome home, you look more like yourself than when I last saw you," Mother spoke after a few passes of the shuttle.

"You look well," Loki replied, stepping forward so he could see the fabric better, the tips of his toes just brushing against the carpet's edge. He didn't dare leave the patch of stone in front of the doorway even though the fine threads were hard to see at this distance. This was his mother's personal space. In all his life no one had ever tread on that carpet other than Queen Frigga, not even her most trusted servants.

"I have not yet forgiven your father, but at least he has admitted that discipline in the nursery should have been my domain. He's given me something of a proper apology, even if it is not what I wanted of him," she said as she slowed her movements. When she'd properly stopped the loom she turned and embraced him. "You've lost weight!"

"A bit," he admitted.

"More than a bit," she fussed.

"I used quite a bit of magic, and didn't have the best food," Loki shrugged.

"How so?" she asked as she led them out of the workroom.

"A commoner's family, with an infant born sick. I helped, and she was well when I left, but they will have a hard time for some years I think," Loki told her.

"Norns be kind, but you did what you could. Have you eaten yet?"

"I arrived late enough after noon I thought I'd wait for dinner."

"Nonsense," mother clucked. She crossed the room and called out through a doorway to her servants. "Abby, send word to the kitchens we're ready for dinner now, and we'll be in the garden."

"Will Father join us?" Loki asked.

"He's with the generals tonight," Mother explained. "He'll be with them late into the evening, as Njor has gained another grandchild while you were away. I'd send you on to them, but I'd rather keep you to myself a while and you deserve a bit of rest at home. In any case I'm hoping Grandmaster Tyr takes the opportunity to get a few words in his ear."

"Oh?" Loki asked, all curiosity as they sat down at a small table in the garden. He'd all but forgotten about the pregnancy. General Njor's younger son-in-law was a quiet man of smaller ambitions, and so was rarely in the palace even when he was in Gladsheim.

"The Grandmaster is quite fond of you, you know," Mother said with a conspiratorial air. "I didn't give specifics, but when I saw that Odin hadn't really accepted that he'd done wrong by you I told Tyr a few things. He has been quite cross with Odin since."

"What did you say?" Loki asked, face carefully blank.

"That Odin had left an enchantment on you since you were small, and that you were a changeling and not a shifter. He put the relevant pieces together himself quickly enough given your disappearance. I think he thought you were badly hurt when the geas broke, but I didn't say one way or another and told him it was your personal business. I figured you'd appreciate the choice to speak with him in detail or not. I know he would never gossip about such things."

"Thank you, Mother." Loki saw the servants coming and leaned back so they could set the table quickly. When they left Loki focused on his dinner for a few minutes.

"How are you feeling?" Mother asked pointedly. "You were still in shock when you left. I hoped that you'd have a chance to calm down while you were out."

"I did spend more time as a girl," Loki admitted.

"Were there any problems? Has the damage from the spell gone?" Mother asked.

"No, the change was easy enough, though it is as Eir said. It will be some time before all the damage is gone. It was surprising, actually. I even changed species, and it felt as natural as breathing," Loki said. He fiddled with his fork a little.

"What was surprising, that you could do something you'd done often since infancy?" she asked. "It is a part of you, is it not? It should be like moving your arm, or styling your hair."

"There was one time, when I was stressed, that I changed. I hadn't really decided to change, it just happened," Loki muttered. "I wasn't even sure what I'd done, at first. I'd never seen one before outside of a book."

"Oh, that must have been a surprise," Mother cooed and reached out to touch his hand. "Were you alright after?"

"Yes, yes. I felt fine," Loki rushed. "I could change back and forth without any trouble. I'd turned Jotun for a time."

"Jotun?" she asked slowly.

"I fell through ice into freezing water, and came up blue when I broke through to breathe," Loki spoke quickly. "I thought I'd done it wrong, with how small I was. Not that I got smaller, I was nearly the same size. Then again they are called giants, are they not? I did dig up a few more books about them while I was out, using a few contacts and…"

"Can I see?" she asked suddenly.

"Certainly. Can you read their language? What I have is mostly in their own script, and I have not mastered it yet by a wide margin," Loki assured with a slight shrug.

"No, can I see you as," Mother's voice faded for a moment and she fluttered her hands as if chasing off a fly. "Do you need ice? Can you do it without?"

"I… what?" Loki sputtered.

"Can I see?" Mother asked, an eager look on her face that Loki couldn't begin to understand.

"I, yes, I can. I don't need any, that is," he fumbled. He cleared his throat and took a breath before changing. He squinted his eyes shut for a moment, the glare of the suns powerfully bright. Blinking against the light, he saw his mother's hungry eyes roving over his face.

"Are you in pain?" she whispered.

"It is just a bit bright," Loki assured her, "and warm."

"You just, changed to this," she asked hesitantly, "when you got too cold?"

"Well, I wasn't just cold. I'd fallen through ice into salt water, and nearly froze myself solid before I could get out of my predicament," Loki hedged, looking down at the short black claws on his long fingers. "I didn't realize I could become something I'd never even seen before." He looked up at the choked sound his mother made, and was too shocked by the look on her face to shy away from how her hands latched onto his. He'd thought Jotun skin was too cold to touch, though the more he learned the more he doubted the tales he'd been told about that icy realm. Her touch was so warm his hands must have felt like dead fish to her.

"I think you look handsome. Is there any pain from the spell damage?" she asked stiffly.

"No, none. Just a lot of stiffness, like a scar," Loki assured.

"You are rather short for a giant, as you said," her face was pinched with worry.

"Well, the books I found spoke to that," Loki began, "because I'm not small. I'm nine centuries old. This is how big I should be."

"It is?"

"They have a massive growth spurt as they approach eleven centuries," Loki explained. Mother abandoned her chair and pulled him close, blue and all. Loki stood, holding her close. He blamed the instincts that came with this biology as he snuggled into her embrace. Mother was emotional enough for both of them, and he didn't need these ridiculous childish impulses.

"I forget how young you are sometimes. Not that Thor is so much older, but there is a difference," she said gently. "I'm glad you listened to my words about the Jotnar, and so very proud of you for taking them to heart."

"It is important to you, so I will try to understand." He was getting intolerably hot, and changed back to his own skin. "I do understand why they don't wear clothes in warm weather. I feel half cooked."

"Have something to drink," she urged, but he had a hard time convincing his arms to let her go.

"The instincts are different," Loki murmured into her ear. "Their children are fanatically attached to their parents. Before I was warm enough to change back I was frantic to get home."

"Oh, my Loki," she cooed. Her hands smoothed along his back. "You are home now."

"Home," Loki murmured, hanging on to his emotions tightly. "Thor is in his room organizing a hunting trip to ferret out some binglesnipes in the hills, and wants to leave tomorrow."

"Then tell him no," Mother said, sounding irritatingly reasonable. "You just got back, and it's much too close to the Harvest Festival for such a quest anyway."

"I feel ridiculous. I'm far too old for such sentiment and display."

"Too old to love your family or cherish your home? With luck you will never grow so hard-hearted," Mother chuckled. Loki finally unwound his arms from her and sat back down, self-consciously smoothing out his tunic. She urged him to eat, calling for a pitcher of honeyed milk. He let her pamper him, obediently eating his fill of his favorite foods while she talked about what he'd missed. There were a few notable moments from the Summerfinding celebrations. These were mostly accounts of a good bard, or a badly timed joke.

Freya was in the middle of another love scandal. Some minor lord she'd been romancing was trying to marry her and she was, again, having none of it. The woman's lovely body and artistically painted face were backed up with such vapid drivel and squawking nonsense that Loki couldn't stand her, so it was good news to him that she had left for Vanaheim to find a new lover. Her brother Frey had insulted the minor lord and Loki did regret not being there to witness the flyting. Frey's way with words was rival to his own. Mother remembered it well, but her delivery was too soft for the insults and she shied from harsh language. Even so, it was clear Frey had decimated his opponent. The lord was still skulking about, but really needed to get back to his lands.

The suns had long been set when Loki finished his third serving of desert and declared himself stuffed up to his eyeballs. Mother insisted on walking him back to his room, keeping up her chatter about the court. Her awkward retelling of the insults had him giggling steadily despite the lethargy his large meal was inducing. They kept their arms linked as they walked, the guards and servants disappearing into alcoves to give them the illusion of privacy.

"So then Frey said, well it was vile. 'You turn your favor like a hinge, clearly you are a loose…' well, you know how that must have ended," Mother stumbled. Loki burst into laughter again, and the door to Thor's rooms opened.

"What revelry are we missing?" Thor asked.

"Just catching your brother up with the latest court drama," Mother said as Loki composed himself.

"You did not tell me Freya had caused such a stir," Loki accused.

"Lady Freya? What of our cousin?" Thor asked.

"Oh, Thor has hardly been home a full day since his party ended," Mother explained. "He only got back yesterday from his last escapade."

"Back from?" Loki asked.

"Hunting on Vanaheim," Thor said with a shrug.

"You won't be leaving again before the Festival," Mother scolded. "Neither of you. You are needed here."

"What?" Thor was flabbergasted. "Loki, what did you say?"

"I mentioned the hunting trip in passing." Loki adopted an innocent look.

"You just got home, Thor," Mother scolded. "You can't leave again so soon."

"Loki said there is a bilgesnipe nest…" Thor began.

"Thor, I have to see to my holding, so I can't go tomorrow morning," Loki cut in.

"The five of us can handle them easily enough," Thor boasted. The other warriors were peeking out into the hallway around him, but there wasn't much room in the doorway.

"That isn't the point, Thor," Mother sighed. "There is work that needs to be done here in the capital. For both of you. If there is a small danger you can assign someone else to handle it. As Prince, you have other duties."

"There is nothing pressing…"

"Were you at court this morning?" Mother asked. Loki looked back and forth between them, surprised and letting it show. Thor had mentioned that he needed to begin acting more like a king several times over the last year. Apparently, Mother thought he hadn't started on that yet.

"I was at the training grounds," Thor said with a shrug, as if that was the only place he could have been.

"Then how do you know if there is anything pressing? Honestly, I would have thought you would be celebrating with Njor and his family tonight," Mother needled. "I know you wouldn't have missed the invitation." Thor looked put upon, and Loki didn't want to be in the middle of whatever argument this was between Thor, Mother, and Njor just now.

"Mother, I really should get to sleep," Loki spoke up. "I'm not up to a long night, even if it is just quiet company here at home."

"Go to the Lemon Hall for breakfast, both of you, and I will join you," Mother insisted. "Since you were not able to join the generals tonight, you can be with me tomorrow."

"Yes, mother," the said together, in an echo of their younger years. Loki let out a satisfied sigh. Some things never changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this feels a bit to me like it has more filler than I want it to have, but I've tried to get to the next bit without this and it doesn't really work. I trimmed it down as much as I could. This section should go on through Loki's Name Day. The fourth segment, which is still in its first draft phase, should skip along through the years at a much faster pace connecting the end of this to the Coronation in the first Thor movie. I have 4 or 5 scenes I wrote out of order that are now nearly in alternate universes to the rest of this. I am reworking them where possible to get them back into the groove.


	2. Breakfast on Display

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Frigga tries to give her boys what they need, starting with Loki.

Loki started his morning with yoga once more added to his normal morning ablutions, his sound sleep letting him enjoy the morning in a way that was still novel and pleasing. Once he was clean and dressed in one of his finest casual summer outfits he loitered in his front room, his door open and an ear out for any activity in the hallway. He took the time to flip through the papers on his desk, though the majority seemed to be personal correspondence. That struck him as very odd, but he didn't have time to read them yet. Much of the actual paperwork was simple enough. His steward was perfectly capable of handling the hold during a short absence, in fact he'd taken over the lessons Loki used to receive from Odin on how to manage property when Loki was first given the hold. Loki trusted him as well as he did any clerk. These were just an accounting of small things that had happened in case he had any objections. The spring foals were growing well, and the crops were free of any blight. A bit of reading and he could easily put his seal on these documents. The invitation to the naming ceremony of General Njor's new grandchild was beautiful, embossed silver lettering on bright blue paper to match his house colors. He was glad the servants hadn't yet discarded it, even if he had arrived in Gladsheim after the ceremony was over. There was one official letter that he needed to take a longer look at, but he'd just started giving it a proper look when he heard Thor's door open. Loki dropped the papers and left his room, the door and its wards closing quietly behind him.

"Good morning, brother," Loki greeted cheerfully.

"'Tis morning," Thor grumbled, "though I am not sure if it is good."

"Did you sleep poorly?" Loki asked, concerned.

"Why did you convince Mother to forbid this hunting trip?" Thor accused.

"I did not. I merely mentioned that I had talked to you, and that you planned on leaving for a hunt," Loki responded simply.

"I know how you twist words," Thor grumbled. "You already said you didn't want to come, you could have left it at that."

"I left it just as I said I did, and knew nothing of how she would take them. If you had seen to the court yesterday Mother would not be cross with you," Loki teased. "I thought you said you would have to start being more kingly?"

"It was a simple trip, and then I went to train with the others when I was back," Thor shrugged. "How can you twist that into something worth a scolding?"

"I did not know of any of it until she spoke to you in the hallway," Loki defended. "She was cross with you without a word from me. You would check in with your steward before you left Gladsheim again, right? And you don't have anything on your desk at all?" Thor's face twisted into a frown and his posture lost some of its arrogant swagger. "You have looked, haven't you? I was a bit surprised when I went through the papers this morning," Loki taunted.

"Surprised by what?" Thor asked. Loki gave him a sly look and took a deep breath.

"Oh, I think Mother would be most unhappy with me if I told you."

"Loki," Thor warned.

"I'm sorry, Thor, but after the last couple of months, I have no intention of displeasing her. If anything I am thinking about what sort of gifts I can shower her with. You have to admit, I owe her greatly," Loki shrugged.

"It was not so serious a thing," Thor scoffed.

"Well, if a magical accident causes you to lose your dick and start bleeding uncontrollably I will remember those words," Loki quietly stabbed back, a touch of magic stopping their voices from carrying down the hallway.

"I do not want to fight about this," Thor grumbled.

"Then do not say something that nearly killed me is not serious. I do not know what I would have done if I did not have mother's support," Loki scolded quietly. They were coming close to the more public hallways, and Thor looked ready to say something awkward. "It is not something I wish to speak of in public, even discreetly."

"There is no need to be so secretive about it," Thor dismissed.

"I do not agree, and truly do not want to talk of it in private either."

"Why? I understood when Father told me not to speak of it until your return. If there was some permanent damage done to you it would be best to present that to the court directly, but you are well and it is over," Thor blustered loudly.

"I am not fully healed," Loki hissed. "It will be years, Thor. I am well enough that no one need know about it, but it has left a scar. I have no desire for this to be the day's gossip." Thor rolled his eyes and picked up his pace.

"You worry over the silliest things," Thor said as Loki stretched his long legs to match his brother's pace. It had been at least five centuries since Loki would fall behind from that alone, but Thor never seemed to remember that most of Loki's size was in his legs and arms. From the moment Loki reached his full height he could easily outrun his brother on flat ground. The pair walked in silence down to one of the small meetings halls, its walls painted a pleasing lemon yellow. Inside were a large collection of the families of high-level military officials. Pride of place was given to a tired redheaded woman and her newborn. Thor sighed.

"Come now, brother, this is just a room full of women. Hardly the most difficult of foes," Loki chuckled.

"Quiet," Thor huffed. Loki just shrugged and headed for the buffet, greeting people politely as he went. He and Thor were far from the only young men in the room, though most of them looked as thrilled to be there as Thor was. Loki plastered a smile on his face and made nice with the old women at the buffet table. Then he gathered a small plate and made his way to the new mother as was customary. General Njor was sitting nearby, half-asleep and smiling with pride. The new father was nowhere to be seen, likely taking the opportunity to sleep off the previous night undisturbed.

"Congratulations on the new addition to your family. I regret that I was unavailable to attend the earlier festivities," Loki greeted them with a nod.

"Thank you, Prince Loki," Aila replied just as formally. She was just as well wrapped in blankets as her new daughter, settled into a rocking chair next to her mother Lady Nerth. The babe was in a hanging basket, rocking gently on its own in the center of the semicircle of comfortable chairs and pillows.

"Please, sit," Lady Nerth offered, pushing aside some cushions to make room for him on the large central couch. A handmaiden scooted over gently, tucking her cream dress out of the way. Thor was talking to one of the younger men, probably a husband drug into the room against his will. His clothing looked very simple, and his face was unfamiliar. A distant relative of lower class, perhaps? It shouldn't take his brother too long to come over and swap placed with him a while.

"Thank you," Loki accepted.

"We missed you at Summerfinding as well," the Lady commented. "You left quite early on your yearly journey. Was there some trouble?"

"No, no trouble. I had the opportunity to do some valuable research and took it, then was delayed in my return by a common family in need of aid," Loki glossed over the issue. "The information turned out to be valuable more for its rarity than any intrinsic use, at least so far."

"Something interesting enough to capture your attention must have some value," Aila said, her voice soft.

"A rare language, hardly known by any in this realm today," Loki shrugged. "There are books written in it with certain unique perspectives. I had the chance to gather a few, and to learn a small portion of it."

"Sounds intriguing," Lady Nerth said pleasantly.

"It is not as captivating as you might think. Once I could read portions of them I found that these first few books were rather dull, and other than learning to decode more of the language I fear they will be of little worth when I am through with them. Still, there are other books in that language I may avail myself of later, hopefully with better results. How have you been since our last meeting, Lady Nerth?" Loki parried.

"Quite well, and all the better now that we have our little flower with us," the Lady gushed slightly.

"She looks lovely," Loki agreed.

"I heard you nearly had one of your own," General Njor said quietly.

"No," Loki tried to laugh it off, "a rather wild misunderstanding based on a bit of unfounded gossip. Should I be so blessed I would not handle it that way, certainly."

"Blessed? At your age?" General Njor asked.

"What else is a child, but a blessing? I am far more responsible in my private affairs than that, but should such a lapse in judgment occur," Loki shrugged, "I think I would accept it as the Norn's will."

"I thought it was in poor taste," Aila said, fussing with her blanket. "It was quite obvious that those rumors were false."

"Not so obvious, dear," Nerth corrected. "I remember Odin of old, and if the Prince were to turn up with a pregnant mistress hiding behind the Queen might be the only thing keeping them safe."

"Wife," Njor warned, "take care of your words."

"He has never been an even tempered man," Nerth huffed.

"I do expect to enjoy the segment of my life where I would be setting up my own household. That would naturally include finding a wife, but that is something I doubt will happen soon. I'm scarcely old enough to father rumors about such things, let alone an actual child. For now I will be working hard on honing my talents as any other person my age might do." Loki smiled and hoped Lady Nerth would drop this rumor if he gave her a better target. "I may be less than conventional in several ways, but I do know the proper order of events before one has a child."

"Ha," Njor barked, "conventional! You busy about with magic like a young girl, and you fight like a veteran tactician thrice your age. I'd say I was surprised you knew the word, except you could only be so fully backward in your manner if you first studied the conventional and then deliberately did otherwise."

"Please, Father," Aila sighed. "Prince Loki has never been other than kind to me. In any case, he is hardly the only male sorcerer in the realm. The rumors about him are idiotic. Our Prince cannot be both too feminine to enjoy a woman's embrace, the father of an illegitimate child, and young enough that he has not yet grown a beard. It is all nonsense."

"Thank you, Aila," Loki said, hoping she would stop damning him with faint praise.

"Indeed, I am glad to hear not all in this palace have lost their good sense," Mother's voice sounded suddenly from behind Loki. He saw the shock ripple over the other's faces, and knew that she'd used the techniques she'd taught him for moving quietly and unseen. She was still better at it than he was. He couldn't have approached a group like this in such a quiet room with more than a coin-flip's chance of success. There was a formal moment where everyone but Loki bowed their heads in greeting.

"All-Mother, thank you for the blessing you have given our family," Aila said formally, with a gesture toward one of the blankets she was wrapped in. Loki didn't feel bad for not recognizing his mother's weaving. She was so finely skilled in so many techniques that no two projects looked similar enough to most eyes to discern a style, and it was only if one noticed the golden hallmark in one corner that it became obvious who wove the fabric. Loki might be a tad ladylike in some of his hobbies, and he could mend things acceptably after a battle when needs must, but his skill with thread ended at medicinal sutures.

"You are welcome, Aila," Mother replied warmly, stepping up to the basket the newborn was cradled in. The air shimmered where her hand passed through a sound muffling spell as Mother tucked a stray corner of fabric back into the basket. "She is lovely."

"What is her name?" Loki asked, all politeness and princely duty.

"They had a terrible time deciding," Lady Nerth replied. "I do hope you don't change your mind about the boy's name you picked. I'd like a grandchild with that name eventually."

"Mother, please, give us a few years before then," Aila chuckled softly. "Her name is Eydis."

"A fine name for a girl," Mother said and moved to sit on the couch. Loki made to get up and give her the space next to Lady Nerth, but she shooed him with a gesture as if he was still a knee-high boy. He scooted closer to Lady Nerth obediently and Mother sat down on his other side.

Loki pondered if perhaps Mother was also cross at him for something as he nibbled on the cheese and sweetbreads on his plate and made smalltalk about the favorable weather. People, mostly women, came up at regular intervals and gave their blessing. Some stayed to chat for a few minutes before cycling out. At one point Eydis started to fuss and Aila fed her. The official naming ceremony had been carried out as a private family affair in General Njor's home. This was primarily a formal court function announcing the new addition to a noble house that allowed the members of the court to see the child for themselves. Loki and Thor wouldn't have had that separation, it was all formal all the time for the Royal family, though one could argue that it wasn't needed given how little living family they had.

That was a dark thought to be having at such a pleasant event, but he was perhaps a touch jealous of how big Njor's family was. Both Loki's paternal uncles had been childless and dead for centuries before Thor was born, and Mother was a War Bride whose family was mostly slain either in the war or by uprisings shortly after. Frey and Freya were Mother's niece and nephew, twins twelve centuries older than Loki who had yet to marry. Their strong claim to the Vanir Throne weighed in on that quite a bit, though Loki thought they both enjoyed their lifestyles. The current ruler of Vanaheim was Mother's first cousin, but they weren't very close. There was a bastard son of Bor who'd started a household as a decently skilled artisan, but the blacksmith had died when Loki was very young and his family wasn't exactly welcome in Gladsheim. Loki visited them once, the whole household made up of rude redheads with loud voices, and decided that there wasn't anything he had in common with them. Most of the Royal apartments were empty or used as guest chambers when large celebrations brought more Lords, Thanes, and Jarls than the guest wing could support; Loki almost didn't mind The Warrior's Three filling several of them so frequently despite them having proper homes nearby just to cut down on the emptiness.

As he looked from one speaker to another politely following the conversation, he also scanned the crowd. Thor had moved over by the buffet and was now talking to two men Loki recognized from the Kings Guard, his booming voice carrying well through the subdued room. They must also be stray male relatives. He recognized most of those in attendance, but there were a few with so little political involvement that they weren't frequently at the palace. A few of the younger women that came to grant well-wishes gave Loki lingering looks, including several that he hadn't met before. Perhaps Mother wasn't cross with him after all, though he'd rather not have this kind of assistance in his love life. Still, it was nice to be reminded that not all the eligible women in the realm frequented the palace. Aila's husband was from one of the more distant counties, and maybe Loki ought to do a solitary tour of Asgard. Without his brother around to capture all the attention he might have someone to invite to the palace guest rooms at the end of it.

The food started to be cleared away before Thor finally made his way over. He looked utterly bored. His blue eyes were dull, his shoulders slightly bent. As he approached some of the shine came back to him, his eyes on the general.

"Good Morning, General Njor," Thor greeted, "Ladies."

"Good Morning, Prince Thor," Aila responded. Thor's eyes glanced at Aila long enough to be polite before turning to the basket.

"So this is who all the fuss is for, is it?" he asked, a bright smile lighting his face.

"Her name is Eydis," Aila explained.

"Everything is well, then?" Thor asked, looking briefly at the assembled women before his eyes settled on General Njor. Loki realized the older man's eyes were closed in a light doze.

"Yes, thank you," Lady Nerth replied, pulling Thor's attention back to the ladies. "We were discussing the Royal Household just a little while ago. It may be a few years yet before Prince Loki gets into the game, but how about you? Any thought of marriage and family yet, Prince Thor?"

"I…," Thor's eyes blew wide, startled by the bold phrasing of the question, "No, Lady Nerth. I am not much different than my brother, in this case." Loki thought that was utter nonsense.

"Oh, come now. Prince Loki is still beardless, not that he isn't handsome, but you can't compare a man's thoughts to a boy's daydreams. Plenty of women have enjoyed your company. Surely you have some thought to the future," the Lady needled. Loki felt more than heard his mother chuckle, and a glance to his side saw her hiding her expression behind a cup. Interesting.

"I don't think I am quite ready for that just yet, dear Lady," Thor demurred, a stiff quality to his voice as if he'd said those same words twenty times in the last hour.

"I can think of one or two young ladies here your Father and I would approve of," Mother said lightly. Loki arched an eyebrow, realizing that Mother was parading both her sons through a pack of eligible women whose hormones were activated by cooing over a new baby. He must still be shaken from his trip to have not seen the obvious gambit from the start. She couldn't be that desperate for grandchildren yet. A quick glance beyond mother to the handmaiden in the cream dress he'd originally sat beside and caught her looking back at him shyly.

Thor was saved needing to answer by the wave of ladylike giggles Loki's expression of incredulity at his Mother's words kicked off. From there the women all but ignored the two Princes as they talked about them and traded names of women and girls who had either just reached twelve centuries or were about to come of marriageable age. Thor's blush grew quickly while Loki used a simple illusion to ensure any blushing he did was covered. The giggling had awoken Njor, who captured Thor's attention with talk of the army.

Loki, having had enough of being trapped by politeness and courtly procedure between two older women, excused himself instead of waiting for his Mother to give him leave to go as would have been proper. He gave the handmaiden another glance as he walked over to the remains of the buffet and took a cooling cup of tea. It wasn't long before the young maiden appeared at his elbow. Her dress was fine, and the emblems on her shoulder indicated she was from a respected artisan house and studying weaving.

"Are you one of Mother's students?" Loki asked her.

"Yes, Prince Loki," she answered politely.

"May I ask your name?"

"I am Sana, of Nornheim." Her voice was soft and quiet. Nornheim was semi-autonomous due to a feud so old Loki's tutors didn't know what started it. It was the only part of Asgard he'd needed a disguise to visit outside of official business.

"How are things in Nornheim?"

"I have not been home for over a decade, but my mother says all is well in her letters," Sana replied. Her gaze dropped to the table, and she tried to cover her awkwardness by taking a teacup.

"As someone who learned at the All-Mother's knee, I know she can be quite demanding of her students. You must have some real skill," Loki flattered. She blushed and described some of her projects using words slightly more technical than Loki was comfortable with. He'd woven a couple of things when he was exceptionally young, the simple hand-sized projects helped him gain better vision of seidr so he could use it more purposefully, but that was all. He didn't remember it and only knew that he'd done it because his mother still had the clumsy knots of yarn. He listened to Sana's description of how she was using variation in the weft's thickness, waiting until it dawned on him what a weft was before he made comment.

A couple other young women had come near, and when they heard his responses they lingered. Boldly, a woman in a rich burgundy dress joined in. He thought for a moment about dismissing her from a private conversation, but his hesitation was too obvious and the whole group joined in. Loki turned the conversation to the basics of seidr, bashfully admitting he only followed their conversation because of his early magic lessons. A young woman with hair so dark red it was nearly violet lamented that the connection between weaving magic and weaving thread was so superficial and symbolic as to be nearly useless outside of instructing girls so young they had little life experience outside watching their mothers sew. Loki agreed and the conversation morphed into a debate over the best ways to explain seidr to someone who had never woven cloth. Occasionally he caught one of them giving his body an appreciative look. He smiled and flirted back, complimenting various observations and theories.

Loki and the small knot of women grew so engrossed in the topic that it wasn't until a servant came over to politely inform them that the General's family had left that they noticed the passing time. Mother and Thor were still present, likely due to his own distraction. Loki had all of their names and houses memorized and voiced his hope to see them at the Harvest Festival. He took carefully measured steps and schooled his body into a loose and easy posture to contain the thrill running through him as he went to re-join his family. Seven women fighting for his attention, all of noble birth and near enough his own age, and Thor had spent most of his time talking with bored and grumpy hungover men! This was most certainly a good morning.


	3. Papers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga gives her older son what he needs.

Mother was oddly stiff as they left. She led Thor and Loki to Loki's chambers and bid him collect all his unfinished work. He gave her a skeptical look and scooped up the thick pile sitting on his desk and, after a meaningful glance from the Queen, opened a heavily warded slotted drawer to collect the more sensitive reports concerning the state of the realm. When he asked if she wanted him to take the comparatively tiny pile of finished papers she questioned him over why they were on his desk. Loki explained quickly that he hadn't submitted any work while he stayed with her because he was pretending to have already left the palace, and the clerks would surely question how an absent prince was doing his paperwork. Mother took them into her own hands and bid her sons to follow her. She then led them without explanation through Thor's front room and into an adjoining space Loki had done his best to rarely set foot in.

Thor's office was always a riot of distraction. Loki had been known to cover his entire chambers in open books, scraps of paper, and all manner of illustrative illusions, but only when he was in the middle of some serious quandary or research. The servants kept this brightly lit room as tidy as they were able, but there was simply too many things in Thor's office to arrange properly without more space. Hunting trophies warred with maps and crammed bookcases on the windowless walls. The large honey-colored desk was completely covered in neat piles of paper surrounded and held in place by trinkets and baubles. Loki had collected his own set of little gifts and tokens, but they were mostly kept in a glass-front cabinet. When he'd run out of room to display them artfully he started to rotate the displays with the seasons and discard those that no longer held any value to him. Thor, as far as Loki could tell, had never bothered to order them in the first place and only discarded one when it broke or if he literally could not fit another on any surface. There were five chairs, always, even though the room was only big enough to comfortably fit three and the servants were perfectly capable of fetching the extra two when the rare need for so many chairs in a prince's office arose. It wasn't a mess only because the state of the place was intentional.

"What pile have you finished?" Mother asked Thor.

"I had the servants deliver the finished work to the clerk already," Thor said as if that meant he'd gotten ahead of the game.

"I see," Mother said tightly. Thor and Loki shared a glance, they knew that tone well and the stack of papers in Loki's arms suddenly felt like a mass of leaden chains. Mother set Loki's finished paperwork down on a chair and picked up an empty box that had been resting on it - she must have come here before going downstairs this morning - and started carefully setting the various baubles into it. Loki set his stack of papers down on another chair and started helping, Thor moving to join in quickly once his brain processed that he was in enough trouble without standing like a post while his mother did servant's work. Neither of them dared breath too loudly. When the desk was clear of polished wolf teeth, impractical paperweights, handwoven gifts from charmed ladies, and wooden carvings Mother picked up one of the many piles of papers from the desk. She examined it briefly and laid it on top of another sideways to keep the separation, and then examined and stacked the others in this manner to make a single pile. Loki went to take up his own pile, thinking he would be working on one side of the large desk and Thor on the other, but she shooed him away.

"Loki, you were gone for a little over a month, and before that you were ill and pretending to be gone," she said as she set Loki's unfinished and finished work together next to Thor's pile. "Both of you have been given the responsibility of running small holds, as a way of teaching you the responsibilities of leadership outside of battle. The life and livelihood of the men and women who live and work on that land is your responsibility. You can come and go from the capital, you have that right, but when you are missing for too long the people who depend on you might suffer for it and you would be none the wiser. True, as you are not yet twelve hundred the law requires a steward aid you, and that steward can run your holds while you are away, but in the end, you are responsible for the operation of your holdings." It never boded well when Mother started stating the blatantly obvious. Thor shied away from his brother and Loki tried to look properly contrite since he'd been named, but he couldn't help the traitorous feeling that twisted his gut when his eyes involuntarily raked over the two piles of papers. "How is it, then, that the son of mine who has been ill and away for just under two months has unfinished work amounting to a fifth of the work left undone by the one who was announced as this realm's next king one year ago?"

"Well, I have also been away," Thor defended weakly. The mix of satisfaction and sadness that was twisting in Loki's gut was unpleasant. He loved his brother and did not want to see him fail, but this was good for Thor to see. Loki felt shamed by the display as well, his pile of unfinished work was uncomfortably large next to the slim stack of finished work. He had all the best excuses, but while Mother would understand he had a feeling this was more Prince-and-Queen territory. Possibly, if indirectly, it was Prince-and-King, and there were few excuses that worked there.

Mother shook her head and took the top segment off Thor's tower of paper and flipped through it a moment before looking at the top page of the next segment. She did this for each section. Apparently finding what she was after she set all but the bottom document from the thickest segment back down. Then she went through Loki's completed papers. Loki steeled himself against squirming, some of that was private correspondence even if those letters were sealed, before taking a cursory look through his unfinished work as well. She selected a report giving the total number of healthy foals born this spring from the pile of finished work, the green ink of his seal indicating it was ready to be officially filed as an addendum to his holding's worth, and a page from the middle of his stack of unfinished work.

"Thor, have you been away since midwinter?" Mother asked lightly, laying the documents out and pointing at the dates. Thor's was a report from his hold indicating a petty theft, dated just after the midwinter celebrations ended. The unfinished report from Loki's pile was a notice of a withdrawal from his vault to pay for routine repairs to the fencing dated a day after Thor's name day.

"I trust my steward. Is it not proper to delegate small things instead of trying to manage every detail?" Thor argued.

"You must still keep up with the reports sent to you," Mother scolded. Loki ducked his head slightly, unwilling to move too much lest he catch her eye. The oldest report from his finished pile, for that must be what mother had sought out, was dated a full week before Thor's name day. Perhaps he wasn't in as much trouble as Thor, but he was not above reproach. Mother lifted the finished report about Loki's hold. "Loki managed to keep up with everything up until the end of spring, and he has no less work than you do. Obviously, this is not six months worth of unfinished work," she added quickly when it looked like Thor was going to speak in his defense. "Tell me: are you prioritizing these reports, or do you simply work from the top of a pile downward until something calls you away?"

"I have them sorted into piles, as you saw, so nothing important is missed," Thor assured.

"You have them sorted or you sort them?" Mother asked sharply.

"They come sorted," Thor stated.

"When you are king, I hope you always have people you trust enough by your side to give advice and help you make sound decisions, but those decisions must be your own. There will be much more work than this, and some of it for only your eyes. Those secret documents are not always the highest priority, believe it or not urgent or troubling news can come through many channels. While you are right that trying to control every detail is ill-advised, there is a point where you rely too heavily on someone else to judge what is and is not of high importance," Mother scolded. Then she turned to Loki.

"I am behind as well, and I left Gladsheim knowing I still had papers on my desk that I should see to," Loki offered swiftly before she could ask him.

"Did you sort through them yourself?" Mother asked.

"Yes, though I did not look at much after I fell ill, as I could only read those reports you passed on to me, and could not be seen in public," Loki admitted. "I didn't check them before I left for my yearly trip as I should have."

"Have you done any of this since your return?" she asked, eyes sharp and disappointed. The urge to prevaricate fled him.

"I started to sort the papers this morning. Before that, I was busy cleaning out and putting away my travel supplies and then we had an early dinner," Loki explained. "I was as tired as I said I was, so I had only glanced at them long enough to see there was nothing urgent before I went to bed."

"Thor?" Mother prompted. "What did you do yesterday?"

"I was at the training grounds yesterday. I met with the quartermasters and they said all was well, then observed a troop instruction before participating in the day's exercises," Thor said uneasily. "When I was done I came back to my rooms with my friends and we started planning for the hunt during the Harvest Festival. Loki visited on his way to speak to you, and told us of a possible bilgesnipe nest that we would have to consider in our plans. We were still at that when I heard you laughing in the hallway."

"And the day before, after you came home?" Loki restrained his reaction.

"I came home and settled in," Thor shrugged. "I did not have time that day."

"What did you have time for, specifically?" Mother prompted.

"We brought home a cart full of meat and furs. We split up after we presented our kills to change clothing to match the warmer weather. I rejoined Hogan, Fandral, and Sif after we had washed the road off for lunch. We went down to Volstagg's home and from there to a tavern to celebrate a successful hunt," Thor said. Mother plucked an unopened blue envelope out of Thor's pile. Loki sucked in a breath through his teeth, the hiss changing Thor's expression from mild confusion to worry. Thor had come home in the morning the day before yesterday. Loki hadn't known that. It would have been short notice, but Thor should have seen the invitation. That was what caused this. Mother wasn't angry at Thor for being slack, Father was angry that both his sons snubbed a general and close family friend. Loki cast his mind back to Njor's interaction with Thor this morning. Had the General actually been dozing, lulled into a light sleep by a long night followed by the murmur of trivial lady's gossip in a quiet room, or had he been snubbing Thor at first? Lady Nerth hadn't been kind to Thor at all.

"Loki arrived in the mid-afternoon yesterday, and so could not be expected to attend the naming ceremony that had already ended or the private gathering of men afterward. You had plenty of time to see and respond to this invitation, but you did not. You went out drinking with your friends instead of doing much the same thing with those who must soon turn the respect they have for your father over to you," Mother explained. "The first order of business for you both is an apology."

"Mother, I apologized in person this morning for missing the ceremony, that is how we came to the topic of conversation you walked into," Loki explained. "Should I also apologize to Father for the embarrassment? I have not seen him yet."

"You could have warned me," Thor grumbled.

"I was talking about the Rangers this morning, not the invitation. It hadn't occurred to me that you would miss that," Loki poked back.

"Boys," Mother warned. The form of address stung bitterly. "Loki, you may have apologized in person, but I don't think a written apology would go amiss. Your father will speak with both of you this evening, but until then I don't want either of you to leave this room unless you are needed for official business. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mother," they both said.

It took a bit of fiddling for Loki to get comfortable sitting on the side of his brother's desk with his papers, and then he remembered that he hadn't picked up a writing kit again since he'd turned out his pockets. Sven fetched the writing kit and the seal for him, and Loki took the opportunity to quietly listen to Sven's report and list out his expectations for the next few days so his servants could prepare. Thor gave Loki several baleful looks from his desk while Loki was talking to his manservant, but Loki kept his voice low enough to keep his private affairs private. Mother hovered a bit to ensure they began working instead of quarreling. There were several long minutes where the only sound was the shuffle of paper or the scratch of a pen. Loki pulled the stamp pad open and embossed his seal into the bottom of his formal apology. Thor was on his fourth document by then, but he'd be a long time working on the backlog before he caught up to Loki. At least Thor also had the sense to write the apology letter first. Mother took them with her as she left, though the ink on the seals was probably still wet.

"You are quite friendly with that servant," Thor observed suddenly.

"He is the head of my personal staff," Loki explained. "I should hope I know him well."

"He can't be, he's nearly as old as you are," Thor snorted.

"He's older than you by more than a century," Loki corrected, "and more than capable of the job. I know Hilde does good work for you, but I don't need some condescending old crone handling my affairs when I can have quiet efficiency instead." They lapsed into silence again for a time. Loki came upon the report dealing with the rangers and hid the interesting packet on the bottom of the pile, knowing himself too well to do the fun thing first.

"You knew this was coming," Thor accused.

"I did not," Loki sighed and tried to focus back on his work.

"You warned me of it last night," Thor insisted.

"No, I lamented that I could not join you on a hunt so soon after coming home because I knew I had work waiting for me." Loki rustled the page in his hand to punctuate his statement. "I can't stand this office; I never come in here. How could I possibly know you'd fallen so far behind? Did I look through the wall?"

"It is not as if I am not getting it done…" Thor started.

"The invitation would have been sent just after the birth, that's late last Friday or early Saturday," Loki explained. "Were you on Vanaheim hunting a week ago?"

"It was a three-day trip," Thor grumbled. "Though I'd gone on some war exercises before then." Loki buried his face in his hand. Thor deserved to be at least twice as miserable as he sounded.

"Father must be livid and this is not my fault from any angle. If you hadn't missed that invitation then it would not matter that I had," Loki moaned, quite aware that that wasn't true. He would have mentioned the invitation to Thor, had he been here to receive it, and made a fuss about getting a good gift. He blamed the strange letter for being the root cause of this. The damn thing was messing up his life, distracting him from important things and luring him to get trapped on a frozen rock when he could have been at a party. "You heard mother, and I am certain General Njor only invited me because he invited you and Father. Lady Nerth made that clear to me earlier."

"What point is inviting a sorcerer to a gathering of generals, anyway? You'd have been miserable," Thor scoffed. That was just petty.

"I am a warrior, too," Loki defended, indignant at the dismissal.

"What did the Lady say, then? Why else would they be hesitant to invite you?" Thor asked.

"I'm beardless," Loki supplied, hoping to defuse Thor's anger so they could get back to work.

"That's what I just said."

"No, you said I wouldn't be welcome company because of my magic."

"Isn't that the same…?" Bless his thick skull, but Thor was so earnest.

"Lady Nerth called me a boy - a child. The generals are all old men. You are an adult man, I am not."

"You don't shave?" Thor asked, honestly puzzled.

"I," Loki sputtered in abject confusion, "Thor, why would I shave? Had I a single whisker I'd let the damned thing grow out as long as my arm if I could if only to quiet all the rumors about me!"

"I thought, because other sorcerers do." Loki fixed Thor with a look that could freeze flames. "I thought that you might shave because of that, because we'd seen a few in the remote villages when we traveled." Thor was talking of men who lived on the edge of the law, those that only desired other men and those beyond ergi. He had the grace to be bashful, but he'd still had the nerve to say it. There was a significant chance Thor did not know some of those men had gone so far as to permanently alter their bodies from an originally female form, since he might have arrested someone for the mutilation. There was a much larger chance that Thor honestly believed that the small enclave was all sorcerers, when truly there was only one and he was one of the few with a beard. Loki was not feeling charitable enough to give his brother the benefit of the doubt at the moment, and his glare did not relent. "I suppose only an ergi would shave."

"I do not shave," Loki said decisively. Thor looked a bit concerned. Loki could practically see the thoughts turning in his brother's head. "Mother said she'd forgotten how much younger I am than you, until recently. I gained my Journeyman's emblem early and used those types of accomplishments to wedge my way into the court before I was old enough to be given a place. Sometimes, I think everyone looks at the two of us and sees spectacularly mismatched twins. It's such a ubiquitous mistake I fear the both of us have fallen victim to it from time to time as well."

"When you are actually behind me," Thor added, brow crinkled in thought. Good, though Loki could do with less insulting phrasing. Thor wasn't stupid. He just forgot he wasn't a dullard from time to time. Now that his mind was in motion they'd be able to sort this out properly.

"By one-hundred-fifty-one and a half years, not that I've been made deeply aware of the exact difference recently. It's not like Father announced an impending coronation or anything, after all," Loki said with a false laugh and exaggerated eye roll. Thor chuckled and shook his head. Loki took a deep breath and ordered his thoughts.

"It's not much time by the Norn's count, but for the difference in us?" Loki asked carefully. "When you were my age and I was around eight hundred, do you remember what it was like for us? You didn't have a beard then, either, or only the shadow of what would become one, and you'd barely had free use of Mjolnir at that point. You'd finally mastered it after so long struggling to control its full power, and it looked so natural in your hand. I'll never forget when you fully connected to the hammer's magic. It was glorious and I was lucky to witness it. As for myself, I was beginning my required century in the army, running drills and mock battles from dawn to dusk, going wherever I was ordered to keep the peace and display Asgard's might like I had no worth beyond my martial skill and tactical training. I scarcely had time or energy for my magic studies while I was a conscript, but I made time. I did everything asked of me and I made time for the things I wanted, because they were important to me, and my duty to the realm was important to me. You were no different. What changed, Thor? I can think of a dozen imperfections one might criticize you for, but sloth of this kind? Never. Not until I saw this today."

"I suppose I have been distracted," Thor said slowly.

"By what?" Loki asked, genuinely curious and concerned.

"Right now, by you chattering away while we ought to be working on this," Thor huffed.

"You know full well Mother locked us in here together so we could talk about this," Loki pulled a face as he stated the obvious. "Otherwise I'd be at my own desk in my own room instead of being smashed into the side of yours with no place for my knees."

"I don't see the trouble. I missed one thing," Thor shrugged.

"No, Thor, I missed one thing. You have developed a stack," Loki needled, gesturing grandly at the tower of documents and ignoring the obvious fact that he'd been nearly a week behind when he left. He blamed the nightmarish letter again. He ought to burn it. "You will be at that for the better part of the week if you do it properly. I'll be able to clear this away quickly because it is full of simple fluff, personal notes, and reports that I only need to read and do no work over. I have no doubt you've done all the quick work as it came to you, not after watching you at it this last hour. I can see how you justified it, even. You would see ten new things on your desk and do nine. You would say to yourself that it was a job well done and now Sif or Fandral is knocking on the door so you leave it be for now, but that last thing left behind was the most tedious and would have taken as much time as the first five things. Perhaps the last thing left behind was one that required a bit of research, either because you weren't at court for the matter it referenced or else had to do with something you'd left undone or unread on an earlier day."

"You have made your point, brother," Thor warned.

"Don't get angry at me. You did this to yourself. The only possible point to being locked in here with me while I'm miserably uncomfortable is to make the experience so horrifically unpleasant and shaming that you never do something so silly to yourself again," Loki scolded.

"Then let me fix it and be done," Thor demanded hotly.

Loki went back to his papers. A lot of the bulk was a single packet. It was the day to day accounting of his vault for the winter and spring. He usually used his illusions in place of an abacus, but he looked around for Thor's in the hope he wouldn't have to add another thing with the room so crowded already. He spotted it propping up a stuffed fox and decided to use his illusion after all. Thor could fetch it from the jam-packed and teetering pile of odds and ends when he got to his own accounting. Loki cast about for a good angle before giving into his irritation completely. An entire wall of the small room and all it's clutter suddenly dissolved into the same smooth gold-on-wood paneling as the rest of Thor's chambers. He pushed it back three feet and dissolved the extra chairs. Then, he conjured up his little abacus and left it hovering in the clear space.

"Loki," Thor grumbled, "put it back."

"It is just an illusion, all your precious clutter is still there, now be quiet I have to do a lot of math." He twiddled his fingers at the illusion and the floating gems shifted swiftly as he went down the column of numbers. It was math so simple he could sleep through it. The abacus wasn't strictly necessary, but it was tedious enough that he wouldn't risk losing his place. Loki ate through the accounting at a steady pace until he reached the end. The totals matched. Thank the Norns he didn't have to suss out an error. He sat back with a sigh, letting go of the illusion and working feeling back into his legs. He caught Thor giving him a look of begrudging wonder and spied a similar packet of paper in his brother's stack. "Don't put that one off, ever. Trust me, isn't worth the added effort of dreading it."

"Mother has been telling me over and again about how the King of Asgard has to delegate to the Thing and to his vassals where he can. I am a warrior, I am not made for this tedium," Thor grumbled.

"Now which of us is the boy and which is the man?" Loki teased. "You want to be king, you have to be able to bear this burden and more." Thor huffed, but looked pleased. "On the upside, once you take the throne you can just deal with the summaries and let the treasury account for every coin, with occasional audits to keep everyone honest of course. You have no idea how much I look forward to never having to do that again."

"Why would you not have to do them?" Thor asked.

"I'm not that attached to my holding. I may like the horses, and I am even proud of the strong beasts and good food my land produces, but once I'm of age I plan to return control of it to the crown. I want other things for my life," Loki explained.

"Like?" Thor asked. Loki wished he knew.

"Travel," the words jumped out of him, "perhaps as ambassador."

"I suppose you have a some skill with words," Thor allowed. Loki made a rude gesture. "And such an agreeable personality!"

"I am honestly unsure what I want to do with myself. I have too many choices; I can't decide. I want to do them all," Loki confessed. "You have the easy track, just be King."

"Ha!" Thor barked, "I will be a fine King when the time comes. I am sure Father can help you. He must have plans for you as well."

"I want to leave, to travel and study, but I also want to be here at your side and watching your back. Someone has to make sure your head still fits through doors, after all," Loki joked. Thor laughed too, and they bent their heads back to their work.


	4. Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki confronts the All-Father.

Loki checked the time because he was ravenous enough to consider chewing on his pen. They'd missed lunch by an hour, and Loki huffed at how ridiculous it was that Thor's servants hadn't fetched anything for them while they were closed in the office. He risked Mother's wrath to fetch his own servant and relocate his paperwork to Thor's front room. In short order Loki had a lapboard and the finished work was sent on its way. Thor stuck his head out and saw Loki with his feet up on a large low table, languidly enjoying the best armchair while replying to a note from one of Tolfdir's colleagues about some of the spells he'd combined, a plate of nuts balanced on one arm of the chair. Thor followed Loki out into the larger room with a stack of papers and set up near the other end of the low table, sitting on an ottoman of convenient height. He'd just gotten settled when the servants came back with the food.

Loki abandoned his note and worked on replenishing some of his lost weight. Unbidden, Odaric's worried frown came to his mind. The old warrior had never been happy with how much Loki ate, but how could he eat well when he was offered bowls of bugs or food scraped off the walls of some smelly cave? Still, Odaric had tried to find food that his young charge would eat happily and went out of his way to provide them. He'd been a kind monster, for all that Loki was sure Odaric would have served him marinated Aesir if it were available in his quest to find something Loki would reliably eat. Loki shook his head to dispel the thoughts.

"Something wrong with your lunch?" Thor asked.

"Just thinking," Loki dismissed. He'd had to set his belt two notches tighter when he got back. Thor hadn't said anything, but mother was right. It was a distressing amount of weight to lose in five weeks. His brother surely noticed it, and Loki was glad he didn't make a fuss about it.

Loki finished his food quickly and sent the last of his official work away with Sven not long after. Some of the private notes could not be responded to without a bit more information, and he vanished them until he could dig into the rumor mill a bit more. His disappearance might have caused a bit more stir than expected, or perhaps it was Thor's or Odin's behavior. He needed to investigate to be sure. The only thing left was the missive with the Ranger's hallmark on it. It was written on a rough parchment instead of fine paper, likely hand made by the one who wrote the letter. The Rangers were a controversial group, but necessary. They maintained the wilds spaces, ensuring there was no over-use of the land. One need only look at the soot that perpetually reddens the skies of Nidavellir to see what unrestrained industry can do to a realm. They are nomadic and both men and women in their clans used magic for such things as protection from harsh weather, the gathering of wild herbs, and the tracking of animals. As much as they were respected for being the finest hunters and stewards of the wilds, their lifestyle was so unrefined that many thought of them as little better than packs of wolves. They didn't even marry properly, temporarily bonding when a woman fell pregnant with an oath that lasted until the child grew to adulthood.

The missive was from Freki and Geri, which had Loki sitting forward in his seat. The rangers were nomadic and fractured, but by simple vote these two were named to speak for them as a whole. They were requesting that Loki allow them to use a field on the edge of his holding as their camp during the Harvest Festival. It had been a few decades since the Rangers gathered so close to Gladsheim. They tended to keep to the wilder places, and Loki's mind spun with the implications.

"You look like a coiled spring, brother," Thor observed. "What news?"

"A request from the Rangers that I plow under one of my fields for their use," Loki muttered absently, re-reading the request for clues. He could use this, if he could be sure he wasn't also being used.

"Plow it under? Can you not wait until it is ready to reap?" Thor questioned.

"Not before they will have need of it, no," Loki responded. Loki's land was, naturally, cut out of the land that fed Gladsheim. It had been used by his Uncle Ve before his death just as Thor's holding had once been Odin's. If Freki and Geri camped where they wanted, they would be a day's walk from the capital. "They want it going fallow before they arrive. I… damn. I need to have this done now."

"Why? Give them some other place," Thor suggested.

"I don't have another suitable field of that size," Loki said with a shake of his head. "All the fallow fields are along the main road this year." Loki pulled out a sheet of fresh paper to write the order.

"I might have one," Thor said, digging through his papers.

"No, you don't. Your hold is right up against the city wall. They asked for a field abutting the forest," Loki said as he wrote. He swiftly sealed it with wax. "Besides, all your fields are terraced, narrow, and full of beehives."

"How else is mead made?" Thor asked.

"I can take the loss," Loki shrugged.

"Eh? They aren't even going to pay?" Loki heard Thor ask as he walked out the door. Loki liked the Rangers well enough, they were interesting and had more wisdom than most gave them credit for. He wanted this message delivered as soon as possible.

"Where do you think you are going?" Odin's voice came from down the curved hallway. Loki kept his quick pace and his father came into view. One of the ravens swooped above Loki's head and spun in the air before going out a high window, as if feeling guilty for tattling. Beyond, the sky was dark and steady rain fell.

"Good Afternoon, Father. I received a request from the Rangers yesterday," Loki explained. "I plan to accept, and want the work to begin at first light tomorrow, so I am taking the order to the aviary for delivery."

"What sort of work?" Odin asked. Loki came to a stop a bit closer to his Father than protocol usually dictated. Something tight coiled in his chest, and he took a breath before answering.

"They have asked me to plow under a field, so that it will be fallow for their use during the Harvest Festival for their usual decennial meeting," Loki said lightly. "Unless you have an official objection, I'm more than happy to welcome them." Odin's brow crinkled a little. "It could just be that the Rangers have not been to the capital for a while, or it could have to do with the announcement of Thor's upcoming ascendance. It was impossible to tell from the formal missive, but I have spoken to both Freki and Geri several times in my travels. I would think that they mean to congratulate my brother, from what I know of them."

"I've known them longer than you've been alive," Odin dismissed. "They would not come only for that."

"This is what they have asked, and I have no personal reason to deny them," Loki said evenly.

"You might be less eager to jump at their command," Odin suggested.

"Would that aid the crown?" Loki said quietly, leaning in closer. "I count Geri as a friend, Father, and would in lesser circumstances offer her every hospitality without hesitation."

"I had not known you were so close to her." The reply was stiff, and the All-Father gave Loki an appraising glance.

"We have hunted together in the past," Loki shrugged. "Should I deny them without reason it would be seen as a personal offense."

"Let me see this request," Odin ordered. Loki led his father back to his own room, the servant sent to move his things back from Thor's room scurrying out with a hasty bow. They stood for a moment while Odin read the parchment. When he was done he set it back down on Loki's desk and sat in one of the two armchairs near the fireplace. Loki settled into the other.

"Is there something wrong, father?"

"An interesting question. Would you not be in a place to know if there was?" Odin asked. Loki kept his posture steady. He was not in the wrong, Thor was, and he would not be chastised for work he'd completed in a timely manner.

"There is nothing that I have heard or read, either in my travels or in the official reports that cross my desk to indicate any trouble." Loki lifted his shoulders just slightly. The personal messages he'd been sent were another matter.

"Your mother told me there was a great deal of work that was left undone," Odin scolded.

"Not much, Father, not on my desk. There was what came to me while I was away, and some from just before Thor's name-day celebration began. I will admit I had forgotten about Aila's pregnancy. Had I remembered I would have tried to return quicker, but then I think of what delayed me and I don't regret it," Loki explained.

"What delayed you?" Odin asked.

"A commoner's family with a child born sick. It was a tiny thing, only so big, and less than five pounds," he mused holding out his hands to show, and never mind that such was the average size for a Jotun. "They had given me hospitality, and then the birth began as I was sleeping. I aided them as I could until a local healer was able take over, and after I could not refuse their gratitude without forgetting all my manners. I would have returned two weeks earlier, if my plans had held true." Odin hummed thoughtfully, his one eye looking at some distant point beyond Loki's shoulder.

"I wish you would not deliberately hide from me, when you went on these trips," he said at length. "A child so in need is not something I would wish you to ignore, but I do not think my wife would be so cross if it were only a month's worth of work left undone with good excuse."

"Neither Thor nor myself attended the naming ceremony for Aila's child. I know that must have reflected poorly on General Njor. I…" Loki trailed off deliberately, looking around nervously. "Perhaps you ought to speak with Thor first, if Mother has not told you all the details."

"Oh?" Odin asked lightly. Loki nodded, but Odin shook his head. "I would hear it from you first, as you are the one escaping your punishment."

"I finished all my work. This missive is the last thing, and I need only deliver my order to the aviary to ensure it arrives before all the suns set," Loki defended. "I did not think that I was to remain locked in Thor's office when I was finished and had an urgent letter to send." Odin only looked sternly at his younger son, and Loki huffed. "Thor had reports on his desk as old as midwinter."

"What?" Odin barked out.

"Trivial matters only, but even so. It is unlike him to shirk his duty. I tried to ask him about it, but he would not answer me," Loki explained with a helpless gesture.

"There is nothing Thor will not tell you, if you have a mind to find it out," Odin accused. Loki blushed slightly and did nothing to hold it back.

"Perhaps I took offense at how he went about refusing, when I first asked him," Loki muttered, careful not to mumble or cross his arms. Odin didn't grace that with an answer. "He accused me of shaving off my beard. Had I already finished the task mother set me I would have punched him." Odin's face scrunched slightly. "It isn't that strange that I haven't grown one yet, is it?"

"Not so strange, no," Odin allowed. "You have a few decades yet."

"Eir said," Loki started and let the words hang for a moment to judge his father's reaction, "that my body didn't develop internally as it should have due to my circumstances, or at least that it was behind where it ought to be in a subtle way. I need to… I don't relish the idea, father, and I know you object," Loki rushed the words out. Odin held up a hand.

"Speak calmly," he ordered.

"I needed to change from time to time to maintain my health, regardless of my intentions to ever use a woman's biology. I didn't, and the effects will not leave me for a few years, a decade at most as long as I care for myself properly. I wish I understood why you are so against shape shifters," Loki told the wall on his right, keeping Odin at the edge of his vision. He'd thought through how he would say this a thousand times. In spare moments, and sometimes Odaric would note his distraction and scoop him off the ground. A wild image of Father picking him up in a similar manner flickered through his mind, but it had been so long since that part of his life ended. Odin would never show such physical affection. "I hurt."

"Eir told me you were without pain when you left," Odin accused.

"Not of body, but of spirit," Loki admitted. How long had he been trying vainly to stand next to Thor as an equal? He never had a chance, because of some quirk of the Norns gifting him a talent Odin found repugnant enough to try to smother. He was sure now that the letter was meant as a warning not to take this revelation as a cue to beg for a diplomatic position off-realm and rarely return. He had to be here for the convergence at the least, or it would mean his mother's life. "You are not just my King. Were it so, I could take this implicit condemnation of what I am in stride as I do many other slights. I have tried, over the last weeks, to put that pain aside. I find myself completely unable to."

"It is not such a…" Odin began to patronize him. Loki cut him off with a wild gesture.

"Then you would not have carved off segments of my identity. By the Norns, if you can't trust my words look how much weight I've shed!" Loki shouted. "I could have died if my instinctive magic did not pry the geas loose years ago, to say nothing of what happened between us after I finally rid myself of it fully. I don't mean that I would not have had other ways to escape danger. I mean I would have grown ill, like a tree with a chain on it's trunk. You would have killed me. I… I don't trust you any longer!" Odin's eye went wide and he shrunk back into his chair as if struck. "How can anyone trust a Father who would rather see his child mutilated than be what it is? More than that, you are a hypocrite who has judged men worthy of execution for similar acts! Abandoning me to the cold would have been kinder! Have I not," Loki cut himself off, swiping at his eyes before he embarrassed himself further. Odin was breathing heavily, jaw hanging open and a haunted look on his pale face as Loki struck some sensitive nerve. He had not meant to go that far, and he had to get back to the words he had crafted. He would not grovel.

"Were I any other man's son, if you had not just named Thor your successor, I would ask to be emancipated, but I am a Prince of Asgard. The political implications of something so public are too complex and I understand my responsibilities must come first. Beyond that it would be a disservice to the realm, to cause such turmoil over a private matter. I think, I might take the occasion of having the rangers on my land and the inherent blessing that gives as an excuse to move into Eldred Hall - if only for part of the year. No one should mark it strange. You have just said that Thor is your chosen heir, and a move so soon after would if anything be seen as supportive of my brother. I'd be getting out of the way of his ascendance," Loki said with fragile, forced calm.

"You are my son. I thought what I did was for the best," Odin said softly.

"I understand the war had just ended when I was born. I know King Laufey is a changeling, and his… male lover a shifter as well," Loki supplied. He pulled forth the magic that gave him the title God of Lies and let it fill the room with its oppressive haze. He was hardly the only person with such magic at his disposal, Odin could do the same, but Loki's particular spell blanketed those within its grasp like dread was fashioned into heavy cloth and soaked in consequence. Lighter magics did not terrify words out of convicts the way Loki's dangerous-feeling magic did, and his ability to cast it rendered him immune to such spells himself. Odin knew it was a bluff. The spell didn't actually have the teeth it was rumored to have, and one could easily refuse to answer while in its hold even if they couldn't lie. Odin could ignore it and lie anyway, he had the power and they both knew it, but Loki wanted Odin to know how little trust there was left between them. "Tell me truly, was it because you did not want that comparison drawn?"

"Not entirely," Odin said shortly, neither answering the question nor bothering to acknowledge the magic in the room. Loki looked over the man in front of him, seeing clearly that the silence echoing after those too-short words would not be filled. He dispelled the useless magic with a snort and stood, letting the insult he felt show in every line of his body.

"You believe what was best for me was to bend to your will or die in the attempt. I'm no fool, I know exactly what you did to me. I don't have anything else to say about it, and clearly neither do you. If you will excuse me, my King?" Loki said stiffly. Odin looked down and Loki fled into his bedroom. It was several minutes before Loki heard the door to his chambers open and close. Loki cloaked himself in invisibility. He hadn't spent the bulk of the day scolding Thor only to leave something unfinished, and he had an order to deliver. At least the ravens in the aviary wouldn't care if his face was wet.


	5. A Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is not the only one skilled at manipulation in Asgard, nor is everyone happy with Thor being selected as the next king. Also, some people believe that sadness can be cured with food, and to that end, they will feed you against your will.

Loki kept his doors locked even to his own servants until late the next morning. Thor had spent some time pounding on the door last night, demanding to know why Loki lied to him about wanting to give his holding back to the crown. He thought it was Mother that took Thor away, but he wasn't sure. He'd been in bed at the time trying not to think. His Sunday visit with his mother consisted of him arriving far later than he ever did, declaring that he was not ready to talk about any of it, refusing to let her feed him, and contrarily apologizing profusely for being so rude. She told him that if he wasn't ready to talk about it with her then she would be there for him when he was, but that he should consider that locking himself in his rooms wouldn't help anything.

Loki decided to take his lunch in a small dining hall frequented by those of the warrior caste with a more thoughtful bent. Tafl boards were etched into the tables here and it had the worn comfort of a place designed for lounging as opposed to the boisterous mess halls closer to the training grounds. He hadn't made it to a table to order any food before he was stopped by General Njor and Grandmaster Tyr.

"Hello, Prince Loki," Njor greeted him. He looked much better rested, his green eyes bright under white-blond hair.

"Hello General, Grandmaster," Loki greeted with a nod to each of them. "How are you today?"

"We are well," Tyr responded, his brown eyes flashing, "but we hear you are not."

"Then you have heard wrong, I am well."

"Glad to hear. We'd like to talk to you, in any case," Njor said, and Loki looked him over carefully. The inflection was wrong, though Loki could not point out quite why. "You know, I heard your apology when you gave it to me the first time. Then again, the note you sent was very welcome. It is good to know how my old friend has raised his sons." The hair on Loki's neck stood on end. Sloppy, sloppy work. He should have thought of it, but his mind was still a mess. Mother took both apology notes at the same time, and Loki really hadn't needed to send one. If she hadn't staggered their arrival, or perhaps even if she had depending on how offended Njor was in the first place, it would seem that Thor was forced to write his. Never mind how much truth was or wasn't in that, it was bad politics. Still, there was something else going on.

"Why don't you join us at my home?" Tyr asked gently. "I was just told that my wife made her signature meat pies, and they are best fresh."

"Certainly," Loki nodded. The three of them were followed to the door by every eye in the room.

Grandmaster Tyr lived in a beautiful home just steps from the palace gate. He'd been a general for a couple millennium and retired to run the training grounds a century or so after the war with Jotunheim. His position was more administrative than anything else, though he did visit with every cohort just before their advancement trials to inspect their progress and answer any questions they might have. He was strict, as any man who dealt with trainees was wont to be, but he'd once told Loki that as long as his tricks caused merriment and none had permanent consequences then it was none of his business how princes amused themselves. Both he and Njor knew Odin well when he was still a prince, though both were younger than him by enough to note.

Loki was fed by the Lady of the house with such blinding efficiency that he'd swallowed half a meat pie almost before he'd gotten his bearings. They were fantastic, if much smaller than the ones served in the palace. The scent rising from the plate of palm-sized pies was heavenly. After ensuring that there was at least twice as much food on the table as necessary alongside pitchers of sweet summer juice she bustled off to dote on her grandchildren, leaving Loki alone with the two older men, a chagrined smile on Njor's face.

"When I visit informally with the Queen as host I get the same treatment," Njor wondered appreciatively. "It is some trick Vanir women have, I think, that you can be in the middle of a polite greeting and they have already poured half a cup of soup into you." Tyr chuckled. Loki kept his bearing calmly polite.

"Mother prides herself on her hospitality," Loki agreed.

"Funny that you look half-starved, then," Tyr commented lightly.

"There have been some nasty rumors of late," Njor chimed in before Loki had a chance to speak. "It tells an interesting tale."

"Oh?" Loki asked, giving nothing away. "I did not think you put much stock in rumor." Tyr held up his knife as if pointing out places on a map before troop exercises.

"A man is found with a hateful accusation painted on the wall above where he is pinned to it with magic that did not dissolve for several days, and a prince suddenly disappears." Tyr's voice was steady as he laid it out, "A strange girl appears to be cloistered in the Queen's chambers with some illness, then leaves just as abruptly as she came. Finally, the prince comes back thin as a rake."

"Put that together with our having seen with our own eyes that you could change yourself from boy to puppy to foal when you were toddling, and something said in confidence by the Queen the other night, and you can see a very clear picture," Njor finished, his words a touch more rushed.

"Not all those things need to be related," Loki suggested.

"Not even that Odin still treats his sons like they are knee-high, forcing them to pen apologies they don't mean as some kind of penance for misbehavior?" Tyr asked. "Or the troop of four warriors who came to the training grounds, lamenting that you had done something to get your brother chained to a desk I know he sometimes neglects?"

"Those last two, not that I am conceding the phrasing of either, have some bearing on one another. Thor made an error in setting his priorities that I had nothing to do with, and his apology was genuine," Loki allowed, fiddling a little with his fork. Njor held up a hand to show he wouldn't hear it.

"Eat," Tyr demanded, "and listen to the two of us talk a while. We know you are a changeling now - we thought you a shifter before. There isn't much difference, outside of certain minute tactical advantages. Personally, I cannot understand why the correction seems to matter so much to your family. What was done because of it is another matter. Had either of us thought Odin curbed your tendency to bark or hiss at people you didn't like by putting a geas on you, we'd have taken it up with him. Publicly, and with steel behind it if that's what it took." Loki listened carefully and started on his second meat pie.

"There have never been many changelings in Asgard, but every parent knows that suppressing a naturally occurring magic quirk or talent is a recipe for disaster," Njor added. "Anything can happen! It is wild magic threaded through the child. Be it a talent for sparking a fire or making plants grow, it can be turned destructive if it is not handled properly, both to body and mind."

"Did you know what you were?" Tyr asked, his voice suddenly gentle. Loki considered denying the truth, but these two men had been dancing through the court and setting up battle tactics for millennia. It was too likely that they already knew the answer, given how they ambushed him and their choice of words.

"No. I knew I changed into a horse after I was kidnapped the once and got lost on the road for a time. I also changed into a girl to escape Lorelei." Loki was proud that his voice gave away no emotion when talking about the bitch. "Everyone knows that. However, I thought I was a shifter and knew nothing of the geas. Or, more properly, I could not remember it not being there and thought it was part of myself." Njor pushed the serving plate at him with the clear intention that Loki was to use his mouth for purposes other than speech. He played along and took another little pie. Skipping two meals had been foolish, and he had a feeling both men could tell how hungry he was.

"Njor, do you think it strange that the same boy who _needed_ to know why the training grounds are asymmetrically shaped and the significance of having eight boys to a group instead of some other even number never bothered to play around with his curious ability to change shape?" Tyr asked, as dramatically and overstated as an unseasoned actor.

"Why yes, but it would seem his ability was only usable when his life was in danger," Njor answered evenly, but with the same forced affect.

"Ah, but he would still ask questions about it, don't you think? Even if only to ask why he could only sometimes have such an ability," Tyr argued.

"Well, perhaps the boy is dull-witted?" Loki choked badly on his drink. "Only an addled mind wouldn't wonder why it had been temporarily housed in a horse's body." Loki glared at Njor, but Tyr spoke again before Loki could get his breath back.

"Addled? Now that is an interesting choice of words. It would have to be some form of witchcraft to do such a thing to an otherwise bright and curious boy," Tyr said, and now Loki couldn't pretend that he hadn't been thinking about that exact thing for weeks. "A wicked act indeed, to do such a thing to a child."

"I'm not dull-witted," Loki snarled. "I took the spell off myself. I know what it was." He knew mostly what it was, in any case, and he'd intentionally avoided looking too closely at Eir's report of the lingering residue.

"Forgive us any apparent cruelty, but you would never have admitted that to us if we didn't make it plain that nothing else makes the slightest amount of sense," Njor apologized.

"I haven't admitted anything other than that I took off the spell that suppressed my changing nature," Loki argued. Njor and Tyr shared a look, but let him have his excuses.

"Then you appeared to leave the capital. Either you broke the spell in the company of a girl who needed to be coached into silence due to some horror she saw or else you were the girl and had gotten stuck due to lack of proper practice," Tyr added. "You have likely been training hard to make up for lost time, and have used more magic than you could healthfully manage." Loki couldn't argue with that without implying that he couldn't effectively hunt for food on his own, even if it made him sound wildly irresponsible. He ducked his head and blushed, dropping his voice to a miserable mumble.

"I was the girl," Loki confirmed instead, "but it was not the sort of complication you are imagining."

"Enlighten us, then. How could you be injured or stuck in a magically altered state and it not put proof to your mistreatment," Njor asked. Loki blinked once, startled by his choice of words.

"I bled." The old men looked at him incredulously.

"How is that not an injury caused by…"

"Do your daughters bleed when they are not with child?" Loki asked, expecting the shock to make them drop the issue permanently. "I stayed with my mother as most girls do for their first time. It was miserable, doubly miserable for the extra lessons that naturally came along with the experience, but also healthful for me to do so. Returning to my natural shape before the appropriate time passed would have caused irreparable injury. That is all."

"Oh," Tyr muttered, but recovered almost instantly. "It was still mishandled if you had such lessons after they were needed rather than before." At least Njor had been properly effected, the General looked slightly green. Loki finished another pie while they regrouped, a few obscure signals passing between the old friends he could not understand. There was clearly more to this, and he would know it all before he decided how to deal with it.

"You are suddenly moving your residence to Eldred Hall," Njor mentioned while Tyr was sipping his drink with a furrowed brow.

"Where did you hear that?" Loki asked neutrally, a relaxed tilt to his head as if he'd not heard of such a thing.

"Prince Thor is not known for keeping his voice down, especially when he is upset," Tyr observed, the hint of a smile nearly breaking through his grave expression. "He claimed you lied to him and said you had every intention of returning your hold to the crown."

"General, Grandmaster, I have to ask why you are going through all this. I know my own life. If you wish to gossip then, by all means, I cannot stop you, but you have no need for all this drama and flair," Loki inquired.

"Then what do you say to your brother's accusation that you lied to him?" Njor asked, making it clear that such a petty thing was for lesser people, but he needed to go this route to make his point.

"I changed my mind about a decision for my future I made many years ago, well before the decision was put into effect, as is my prerogative," Loki shrugged lazily. "Nothing of it has begun, as I had only just mentioned it to my Father yesterday in passing. I'm well within my rights to change my mind again or not."

"Do you know that there is an alarming number of people in this realm who think the All-Father is no longer fit for the throne?" Tyr asked. Loki froze, his calm facade going rigid as his heart began to race. Tyr and Njor were well-respected military men to whom many had pledged loyalty over the years. If their minds took a traitorous bent, it would mean civil war with heavy casualties within the first hours.

"Now, lad, it's not how it sounds," Njor cautioned. "We've both been friends of your family for a long time, and while we may be a bit cross with our old friend we're not about to bring our swords into the matter."

"Words can be as sharp as swords, when used with skill," Loki blandly replied. The concern on the older men's faces grew sharp. This was bad. He would not be the tool of a coup, if that's even what this was. It could just be a warning based on things they had seen and heard. Even then, there were those letters he'd received. Too many letters all saying the same distressing things.

"It got that bad, then? I know Odin has a stubborn streak in him, but you are grown enough and proven to handle adult matters," Tyr sighed deeply, sagging back into his chair like a deflating bellow. "Then again your brother is being treated like a boy half his age one day and like a man grown the next. Why should I expect that you would be treated with consistency?"

"Perhaps you should speak more plainly so that I know what it is I am meant to be commenting on?" Loki asked, still keeping an iron grip on his reactions.

"You are no man's fool," Njor began, reaching out his hand in peaceful entreaty. "Odin's judgments were once so harsh and overbearing that none dared speak out against him. Over time he softened, and that is for the better. My wife used to insist it was his love for you and Thor that did it, though he has disproved that lately. We do not call our King the All-Father for no reason, and several people think the sort of father he has been disgusting." Njor's snarl was shocking, Loki had never seen him in such a high temper. "I have often heard you at court quoting wisdom from dusty old books about the needs of the people and the balance of justice in the realm. You see and emulate those things your father had to learn by trial and error about the prudence and restraint a king needs to have, the value of the lives of those who carry steel to defend the realm as equal to the artisans who made that steel, and the value of freedom for the common people. You learned quickly as a young boy, terrifyingly quickly. Some have eyes clouded by jealousy and fear, true, but even they would admit they would rather serve a man smarter than them than a dangerously foolish one if pressed. There is a far greater number who see you as having great, but untested potential. They are wary of you and what you might do, but not fearful. The same can not be said of your brother, in certain sectors, as the awe and respect the people view his physical strength with is not always untainted."

Loki forced himself to breath evenly. Father choosing Thor to take the crown was disappointing, but not unexpected. The older Loki got the less Odin paid any attention to him. Loki also knew perfectly well that taking the crown meant being chained to one place. A king could not travel easily. He was not ready to put down such deep roots. He liked that when he was bored he could just get up and go do something fun, or chase some research down in a remote library on Alfheim. If Odin had chosen him he would have been surprised and dismayed. It was a shock to learn there was a faction within the populous that actively wished for his rule. Even with the personal letters he'd received assuring him he had the loyalty of many individuals, he hadn't thought he had enough support that a coup was a credible threat.

"Odin could never be called a light-hearted and benevolent ruler, but he was no longer a tyrant. Unfortunately, the pendulum is swinging the other way," Tyr took up the explanation, his manner more clinical than imploring. "Odin has been falling back into old habits over the last century or so. Those who suffered under his rule previously are doing so again. I am sure we could speak for hours over the reasons why this might be so. I blame lack of Sleep, and it has been some time since he took a break from his duties, but that is neither here nor there. He grows harsher, and the unrest is all the worse for having felt a reprieve. There are more and more incidents of bandits being reported, but not much theft or injury from them. This is something we have seen before, but Odin will not talk to us about. It starts with groups of armed men organizing in the forests, people reporting seeing brigands but no corresponding rise in crime. If it continues, we will see Thanes call for a Thing and spend the entire time shouting, not bothering to send a representative to their Jarl. Then, there is revolt. We need to be sure things do not progress much further than they have."

"I see how that can be concerning," Loki observed with just a little curiosity, hoping to pull more information out of them.

"Thor, when he speaks in court, sounds like Odin of old. That scares some people, particularly those not in the warrior caste, and those who do not live close to the palace," Njor urged. "Your disappearance, walking out on a celebration of your brother, was seen by some as a statement on his behavior this last year. True, you had another obvious reason for leaving, but Samson's trespass was seen more as an excuse to leave a party you did not wish to attend than the main reason for your disappearance. The rumors pertaining to the young lady in the Queen's guest room were more the territory of your own age peers, and not bothered with by those of a more serious mindset." Njor took a moment to let Loki take that in before continuing. "When you leave the palace for Eldred Hall, and we would not counsel you otherwise given the situation, there will be those who will think you are setting up a haven for dissent. You will be approached."

"This is an opportunity to draw traitors out," Loki suggested, relief that two of the most trustworthy and upstanding men in the realm had not decided to break their oaths over their grievances. Still, for them to even broach the subject with him meant they saw the situation as dire, and they might yet decide that they could only uphold their oaths to serve Asgard and her people by supporting a coup. Loki's informants had not given him the same impression, and he'd actually agreed whole-heartedly with Odin's harsh judgments for the armed bandits that had been popping up. On the other hand, if Njor and Tyr were right about the true nature of these groups then harsh sentences were just putting fuel to the fire.

"I would not be so eager to exploit it," Tyr warned. "Given Odin's recent demonstration of his love for his sons, and his brothers if my memory has any accuracy, even if you were to obtain his approval for some clandestine meeting I would fear for your life." Loki fumbled his fork and flipped some of the crust of his pie onto the floor, though his face remained a blank mask.

"He would not," Loki heard the shake in his voice and silenced himself. His mind was shocked into action, analyzing and evaluating as was its nature. In a way, it was nice to have his brain functioning the way he was used to again, rather than eating its own tail trying to decide if his father's dismissal of him was the cause or the effect of Loki's drive to better himself and the resemblance to Jotun youth that gave him.

"Neither of your Uncles died as old men in their beds," Njor pointed out, "nor did they have heirs."

"I told him," Loki didn't trust himself to use the word father just now, "that moving to Eldred hall would show that I had no intention of contesting Thor's reign, and that it would seem I was getting out from underfoot. I can make that rational plain in my words and deeds, honestly professing to any that ask that it was Geri and Freki's decision to bless my lands with their presence that gave me the idea."

"Are the Ranger leaders coming to visit you?" Tyr asked.

"All the Rangers are. They are gathering for their decennial meeting, and requested the use of my land as is their right. As we speak my people are making ready for them," Loki said.

"That is…" Tyr trailed off, his brow wrinkled with worry.

"It could show that they don't agree with Odin's choice," Njor pointed out unnecessarily.

"They use magic, I use magic," Loki mused. "Of late, those who seek to belittle me have gone after me as ergi. I had not put thought to the idea that they meant to destroy my viability as an heir. It seems turning talk of my skills from disdain to praise may have an inherent danger I had not counted on."

"Do you want the throne?" Tyr asked, a serious glint in his eye.

"Not even slightly," Loki scoffed, lightening the mood with a jovial smile. "I'd have to give up most of what I enjoy, including the freedom to talk my way under a skirt without suffering political consequence. Sometime in the last decade or three that has become rather desperately important to my continued happiness." The older men erupted into laughter and congratulated him with good humor on discovering that his dick worked. Tyr pulled a bottle out of a cupboard and poured out a small measure of an ancient whiskey to celebrate it, something that Loki thought was over the top until Tyr mentioned some family tradition between old and young men. For a time, the two old men talked of what they got up to around his age, and even went so far as to talk of Loki's uncles and their perpetual failures in love. Apparently, no matter their ferocity in battle, the twins Villi and Ve were so shy around women they occasionally lost the ability to speak.

While they carried on Loki set his mind to the matter at hand. Thor was beloved by everyone in the realm for his strength in battle, but apparently that was not blind adoration, or perhaps it held the taint of fear over his berserker nature. While Loki had thought that the business with Samson would excuse his absence from the merry-making, it was suddenly a very big problem that Loki had not been obviously enthusiastic. Had he known the doubts brewing behind the scenes he would have been sure to be the loudest voice cheering his brother, but he had not noticed it either through some blind spot that he had or through his distraction following the arrival of the time-traveling package. Sven had seemed very cautious when Loki spoke to him yesterday. He'd thought it was because of how obviously upset everyone in the room was. Thor was known to shout at servants when angry, and Loki also vented his emotions at them from time to time. Maybe there were things Sven wouldn't say in the same room as Thor or the Queen. Loki came up with a few strategies before the older men wound down, grateful that they had given him the chance to think. Then again, these two master tacticians had known him from birth. They had likely given him the time deliberately and drawn out their idle musing until they were sure they had his full attention again.

"So then," Tyr huffed, "My granddaughter Sif is still following around Thor. While I am happy she has been accepted as part of his honor guard, I'm beginning to worry over how she serves him."

"Lady Sif is treated with friendly respect," Loki assured. "It is not even remotely possible that she has been…"

"Do not mistake me, I do not worry over her virtue. I have changed the subject somewhat," Tyr chuckled. "I mean that I worry over how he treats his honor guard, or perhaps how he plays favorites among them."

"He claimed he did not notice my invitation due to a mishandling of his papers. I heard he was out with four members of his honor guard celebrating a hunt he went on with those same four instead. I am not so thin skinned that I can't handle a young man wanting to spend time with his peers instead of listening to a room full of older men gabbing on, but I have begun wondering how much time he spends with them," Njor explained.

"They are his closest friends, not that he does not spend time with others. As I understand it he remains close with many of those who served with him during his conscription. I have seen as many as forty of them crowded into his front room and out on his balcony during holidays," Loki told them. "He spends a great deal of time at the training grounds as well, and some of that is social."

"Not as much as you might assume," Tyr corrected. "He does talk to others, but if I may be so bold I do not think your brother has willingly spoken to anyone he knows disagrees with him in quite some time."

"You think he is becoming too reclusive?" Loki laughed incredulously. "I think you have us confused!"

"Not reclusive, not either of you," Njor chuckled. "Not unless snow fell in Muspelheim today."

"Insulated is the word," Tyr suggested. "He doesn't have your natural curiosity or love of argument, or perhaps he considers that you can do that for him." Loki hummed. He couldn't decide if the rippling effects of his letter to himself were going well or not, even within an hour. He could not deny that it was good to have discovered that these two men were better allies than he'd thought, and better still was their willingness to speak with him on matters he would normally mull over alone and give up on for lack of viable solutions. Thor did have a tendency to let Loki handle those things he felt were lesser concerns. When they traveled Loki held the purse and performed any related negotiations. He tended to cook the food while the others set up the rest of the camp or fetched water. It wasn't an unequal distribution of tasks as such, but he knew they took turns with those things when he was not with them. He'd never considered Thor's lack of curiosity about the minutia of the cultures and places they traveled through as anything but a personality difference between them. Loki's curiosity was so extreme that there were few who matched him, and perhaps he needed to consider that as a hindrance to his ability to form an objective opinion of other's curiosity from time to time.

"I do not see it as sloth," Loki defended, "not even from the most damning angle I can imagine. I can see where some very small objection could be taken."

"Or perhaps an advantage," Njor suggested. "I would not see our next king led about by the nose." Now that was an angle he hadn't completely thought through yet. Loki chewed some more pie thoughtfully. He was starting to feel full, but he needed both the extra meat and the time to think.

"Thor is not dim witted, though he is occasionally forgetful," Loki admitted. "I wonder if I could arrange for him to go on a trip through Asgard with me. I was thinking of doing it alone, actually. I feel like it has been ages since I officially visited all the Jarls in their own homes. It will be nearly impossible to have him leave without Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun. They are part of his honor guard, after all, but he would be faced with many voices he cannot ignore."

"An official procession is a good idea for a grown Prince on the eve of transition to adulthood. I have a suggestion," Tyr said. "You might have a strong objection to part of it."

"I have had some objection to much of what has been said recently," Loki observed cautiously. "I would hear more if it aids the realm half as well as what you have already presented. What would you have me do?"

"Prepare for the trip, start openly planning it immediately but without urgency. It will take time to set up, after all, and the longer it is in planning the more people will talk about it. If the common people have the chance to prepare and participate, it will have greater effect. Go on your tour of the realm one way, and find a way to send Thor's in the other. Plan to meet at some friendly halfway point and run over each other's paths afterward. If you went on a tour together it might show greater solidarity, but the more important long-term issue is that he spends too much time around like-minded individuals. He needs to be out on his own first, and we can deal with the rest more easily after that. We can help set it up, publicly making it known that the two of you are nearly of age now and ready to go your own way. The contrast between you will be made both more and less obvious by your separate visits in all the right ways, so long as it remains a peaceful trip focused on your duties to the realm," Tyr suggested. It was not the sort of thing Loki would have thought up. If anything, he wanted to be closer to his brother instead of more distant. He hated the idea at first pass, but he pursed his lips and let his mind work out all the angles for a few minutes. It was a solid plan, but for a couple problems.

"Assuming we can both be gone from the capital for such an extended trip without repercussions, I don't see how this gets him away from those you claim are insulating Thor and limiting his perspective," Loki pointed out.

"Well, Lord Hogun could be sent back to Vanaheim during the trip. The main point of it all will be reconnecting to the realm we call home, and it would be more proper for him to revisit his home than to follow. If you are going to Nornheim at all he would have to be left behind on pain of death, if only for that part of the journey, so it shouldn't be too hard to arrange. There are a couple petty grievances against Lord Volstagg," Njor cautiously suggested. "I can use my influence to stir them up enough to force him to address them just before you leave."

"Sir Fandral I think we can do little about directly, but if Thor brings the rest of his honor guard with him instead of leaving them behind as has become his habit, then he might be convinced to act more professionally. Perhaps a word in his ear about the risks of impropriety during the trip. As for my granddaughter," Tyr's voice softened and his eyes darted away from Loki to inspect his cup. "I was going to push her into courting you."

"Pardon?" Loki asked, his face a carefully constructed image of incredulous curiosity.

"I will tell her some of what we have spoken of today. There is always some stir around a new Lord or King taking his place, and we must be wary of uprising during this time of transition. I am hesitant to speak with her about those who prefer you for the crown directly, as she would wish to hunt down those who dissent. When we get to splitting up the tour, I might suggest that she is keeping an eye out for me by going on this trip with you instead of Thor, so she can listen for any voices of dissent not bold enough to speak while Thor is nearby. Very soon, perhaps within the next few days, I may also mention that if Thor has not taken a romantic interest in her by now, it is unlikely to ever happen."

"Do you expect me to make my brother jealous by courting her in front of him?" Loki asked, keeping a calm mask over the emotion roiling in his gut.

"No, I meant only what I said. Thor does not see her as a woman, and I'll not wait until she has become an old maid to try and turn her gaze elsewhere," Tyr said. Loki was shocked at the blunt truth of the statement. "I've planned and abandoned that conversation several times already. This will give me a reason to go through with it that I won't shy away from. I don't relish the idea of forcing her hand in such a way."

"You should know that I once thought of her fondly, but she has treated me poorly for most of our acquaintance. I don't know how believable others will find such a sudden change of heart," Loki worried. Tyr gave him a fond smile.

"They will believe Grandmaster Tyr wants his granddaughter wed to a prince," Njor suggested, "and that he is willing to take the second one if he can't have the first as a grandson-in-law. I'll just let that little manipulation slip, and such a shame Thor doesn't have the same taste for strong women that his father did." Loki frowned at that. "Perhaps we also say good luck to the young prince. A drink and a prayer in hopes the Lady is not just humoring her grandfather."

"It could work temporarily," Loki begrudgingly admitted. "I don't know if it will be effective in getting my brother on a better path and ensuring the largest majority of people are happy with his coronation, but it can't hurt him to be re-acquainted with the Jarls and Thanes. There may be other avenues open to us, and I will still look for them, but I am glad of your council. I will do it; all of it."

"For Asgard," Tyr toasted, and from there they parted on good terms. Somehow Lady Tyrswife managed to get Loki to take all the meat pies left on the table with him. Njor was right, older Vanir women certainly knew how to feed people. He would have to apologize to Mother again for not having breakfast with her. He had a few angles he could work, but how they would split the tour of the realm in half was still an unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tyr is influenced by [PeaceHeather](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PeaceHeather/pseuds/PeaceHeather)'s beautiful series [Odin's Son Tyr's Son](http://archiveofourown.org/series/403348). I loved that prompt and the way these stories are written really hammers home some great themes. I stumbled on the story while taking a break from writing this one a year or so ago, where I needed Loki to get help from outside his family unit and Tolfdir wasn't filling the role the way I'd intended him to. I highly recommend this series for anyone wanting to dive into what a healthy adoption looks like.
> 
> For clarification, because putting things in human terms needs a human in the story and we don't have one yet, Loki's mental age was interpreted as 13-ish with serious issues by the Jotnar and a particularly mature 15 by the Aesir. Thor is 18, Aesir come of age at 21. These two grown men are **supporting a 15-year-old's decision to move out of his father's house.**


	6. Such a Sweet Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki thinks about it for a couple of days, and then takes Tyr and Njor's advice.

Njor and Tyr had ambushed him in a clearly orchestrated encounter. Each knew all that the other said before he said it, and the bulk of it had clearly weighed on their minds for a long time. They clearly suspected Loki was habitually neglected and mistreated as a child; Loki thought that was ludicrous. Yet, they were utterly convinced Odin mistreated him by recent events and the circumstance was such that he could not clarify without making himself out to be the greatest fool or admitting that he'd been trapped on Jotunheim. Even excusing his 'illness' as an unavoidable and unexpected feminine biological process had only made them surer that Odin had done him great harm. He couldn't follow how that leap of logic held up to sober judgment, but both men seemed much more knowledgeable about changelings than expected. They had clearly known one before Loki, and after a couple days of careful thought Loki could not shake the idea that their opinions might be more valid than his own muddled feelings.

Tyr thought so little of Loki's strange biology it that he aimed to have Loki as a grandson-in-law, or at least as an acceptable comfort for Sif's soon to be broken heart. He would laugh it all off as nonsense save that such a base and vile creature as a Jotun had the same opinion of him, if for slightly different reasons that were uncomfortably rooted in their own facts. That damned letter had thrown him off balance and sparked a bout of introspection he could have done without. Now that he'd released some of the vile emotions clawing at his breast and had a task set before him that he was perfectly well equipped to handle he felt more at ease, but that only meant his mind was clear enough to point out how little interaction he had with Odin these days. How often did he normally speak with his father, not counting public court proceedings? Once in a fortnight? Once in a month? How often did Thor? How often did he even want to, or actively avoided doing so?

Loki spoke with Sven to get a better handle on the rumor mill. The manservant did have a bit of gossip he hadn't wanted to share in front of others, but nothing too groundbreaking. Some common girl seen sneaking out of a married Lord's bedroom and the like. Samson had been barred from the court, forced to pay a significant fine, and sent back to his hold with an order to remain on his own lands for a decade. Loki already knew that from the official report and wished it had been handled with more tact, but Sven added that it was the age gap that everyone focused on after the All-Mother dressed Samson down in front of the Thing. He told Sven to talk up the fact that Loki did not own a shaving razor, even if he had to initiate the gossip over his master's childish ways. With luck Loki could bend all the rumors about his sexuality in on themselves and supplant them with talk of his lingering youth. The Norns seemed eager to rub his age in his face at every turn of late. Perhaps he would be well served by taking the hint.

Brelyna and Alec had left him a touching note while he was away, wishing him well, and he felt badly for putting off seeing them. He sent a note to his friends telling them that he was well, but had not had time to visit with them properly due to some important matters he could not discuss freely in writing. When he'd spent enough time sequestered in his apartment going over every detail from the letters indicating a preference for Loki on the throne and deciding on what angle to work from, Loki sent word through the servants that Thor and his friends should join him for dinner. The servants set it up in a small dining room that saw more use in the days when the royal family was large enough that it didn't fit around a garden table.

Thor was still in a bad mood, though it had not rained again today so Loki was cautiously optimistic. He spent the time between Thor's arrival and the appearance of Lady Sif and the Warrior's Three repeating endlessly that he had changed his mind about his Hold while talking to their Father, and it was just bad timing Thor only heard of a decision Loki had made years ago on the same day he decided it was a bad idea. Once the others arrived Loki began to play his part.

He opened by offering to have Thor join in on his next adventure, which was met by scoffs and laughter. After all, was it not the elder brother who allowed the younger to accompany him? Loki let a wicked grin split his face and asked if Thor had any idea where Loki went to when he went out walking. Of course he didn't, because Loki rarely said. Loki confessed the half-truth that he mainly traveled among commoners and sometimes disguised himself so they wouldn't know they were voicing grievances to a noble, and this was why he was allowed to travel as he did with the crown's blessing. He omitted that he wasn't usually in Asgard when he did this. He then talked of the Jarls and lamented how long it had been since he last visited this one or that one. Longingly he mourned that the duty he performed on his walks meant he had to take shelter only under tents or in rented rooms, and how he wanted to go on a more official tour of the realm in greater luxury. He spoke of how interesting it was to observe a Thing held by mere Thanes, and had Thor seen such a thing recently? Had it really been before he passed his warrior trials?

It was easy to make the case that Thor had not enjoyed observing a Thing because he'd been too young for it at the time. Talk of the grand halls the Jarls lived in, and the Thanes that ran holdings under them, was easily spun to focus on the women who lived there and the many different styles of cooking. Loki tried to keep his own comments about the women to a minimum, making a joke of his greater interest in the private libraries. Once they were all nodding Loki added that these were all people that would be swearing fealty to Thor shortly, and it would gain Thor their favor if he visited them all in their own homes. When Thor blustered that they would swear fealty to him or face the wrath of Mjolnir Loki narrowly restrained himself from hiding his head in his hands at the reaction of the others at the table. Tyr and Njor were right, the echo chamber Thor built around himself was dangerous.

Loki did not disagree, he could see the folly in that clear enough, but he mentioned that it was a traditional thing that their own father did not do only because the realm was at war at the time. It was something their father could not arrange, as it was something a prince was meant to do independently from the king. That caused a bit of a stir, as Loki was not taking the throne and therefore should not have been planning this at all. He defended himself with vitriol when Volstagg dared imply he was being less than supportive of his brother, and was glad to hear that Thor found the accusation just as outrageous. This was something all princes were meant to do, not just those who eventually take the throne, as part of the transition from a child in the care of his family to a man in service to the realm. He was sure he'd mentioned such a tour of the realm to Thor back when he'd mastered Mjolnir, and their tutors would have mentioned it also, but that was so long ago. He could be forgiven for forgetting.

Throughout the night Loki let his eyes slide over to Sif. She was a beautiful woman, such a shame she had more pride than good sense. Loki hoped Tyr understood that Loki had no romantic designs on her at all, for all that the man urged him to consider her on their way back to the palace. Perhaps the Grandmaster wanted to be overheard by the palace guards and it was for show, but it didn't sound like it as the older man listed out her finer qualities for Loki to consider. He was careful to let himself get caught looking at her legs only when the discussion was particularly heated, so that she would not have an easy time calling him out on it. When it started to get late Loki stood to excuse himself with the suggestion that Thor would be best served by an early night as well. He was waved off as he knew he would be. Thor would make merry until late with his friends and be irritated tomorrow when he had to sit all day at a desk again, rather than getting proper rest so he could focus clearly and be done sooner. How they managed to believe that Thor's punishment was Loki's fault he couldn't follow, particularly since it wasn't a punishment to have to do his normal work.

"What is it?" Sif's voice had him turning around in the hallway. She was standing just outside the door, which was closed. Good, that meant this was the perfect opportunity. A bit faster than he expected, but he'd take it.

"I thought I just bid you good evening," Loki said with a casual shrug. She advanced on him, a sharp look in her eye.

"You have been staring at me all night as if you had something to say to me, and you never did. What is it?" she demanded. Loki let his eyes travel from her face to the fetching leather top and soft skirt she was wearing.

"Is that a new outfit?" Loki asked. Sif glared hard at him. "It is very well-made. I would think that is the point, that it would attract the attention of men."

"Are you incapable of simple honesty?" she asked. Loki let pain show on his face.

"Forgive me, I did not realize I was making you uncomfortable." Sif scoffed and crossed her arms. The haughty pose only served to push her breasts up further and Loki did not have to fake all of his reaction. He swallowed thickly and tore his eyes back up to her face, blushing slightly and remembering at the last moment not to cover it with an illusion. "I don't have anything else to tell you, Lady Sif. I was staring at you because you have a particularly fetching new outfit on."

"Watch yourself," she warned, raising up on her toes and leaning forward to intimidate him. The reaction he felt was curious. He swallowed again and wet his lips.

"I know I'm not the reason you dress so beautifully. A woman needs no reason other than her own fancy, of course, and you deserve to look lovely," Loki said gently. "I am sorry that you do not like having my attention, though I fully understand why that is so. It is my own fault, I suppose. I would give you one piece of advice before you storm off in a huff."

"And what is it that you want to say, now that you've finally found your tongue?" she spat at him, rolling her eyes.

"Please do not take offense when someone else notices," Loki replied kindly, with just a touch of sadness as he turned to enter his apartment. She was still standing there in shock when Loki was about to close the door to his chambers, and he found he couldn't resist one more poke. "For the record, you kissed me during Thor's name-day celebrations last year when you didn't have to, and beard or no beard I'm not such a little boy anymore. At least now I know that you hadn't noticed I'd gotten old enough for that to mean something to me."


	7. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki starts to work on Eldred Hall.

Loki spent the rest of the week acting the perfect prince with single-minded determination. He attended the court in the morning, did his work as it hit his desk, and had lunch with this friends and contacts in the mage's wing. In the afternoons he was busy in his workshop recreating experiments out of books or analyzing materials relating to a case before the court. Over dinners he met with various representatives from the more distant counties and floated the idea of a tour of the realm with them between swapping the latest news. They would have their people contact his people when they heard from their Jarls. On the rare occasion he crossed paths with one of Thor's friends in a hallway he walked past them with only the most distant acknowledgment that they existed. Tyr sent him a note marveling on how fast Loki could work when motivated that jovially warned him not to go too fast, as Tyr was not sure if he was ready for great-grandchildren after all. On Thursday he rode out to his hold to check on the work and found the field plowed under and seeded with wildflowers. He lent his seidr to the women of his hold in a simple working that helped the mulched plant matter to break down and the seeds to root, and fell into bed as soon as he rode home. The field had been full of grain, and on Friday he made an order to import a small amount of barley from Vanaheim to keep the stocks at a reasonable level through the winter.

All in all, things were back to normal. Those who remarked in public on Loki's absence from the revelry surrounding Thor's name-day in public found all the furnishings in their chambers on the ceiling, with gravity helpfully reversed so that they could still access all their belongings and sound muffling charms for privacy. Such a shame they hadn't thought to equip their chambers with ladders so they could reach doors from the high ceilings. Alec told him it had taken hours to for the palace staff to realize that anyone had been trapped. Sven informed him the rumor mill was now buzzing with scandalous innuendo about Loki's tender age. The favorite story of the week was some version of Loki being forced to act above his age in years past contributing to his childish antics persisting into the present day, with a salacious account from some whore he was sure he'd never met about his 'first time' being entirely too early and causing his disinclination toward romance. It was better than chatter about Loki coveting the throne, at least, and he took comfort in that.

A check with the records room revealed that Tyr and Njor's observations about the increased sightings of armed men was accurate, but there was no sign of any real trouble yet. The only abnormal thing that happened during the week was that Loki had his staff quietly move his winter things from storage in the palace to storage in the attic of Eldred Hall, the carts going unnoticed in the bustle of weekend traffic. He worked in his rooms to translate the Jotun texts when he was not busy with other work or his friends. His mother visited him while he was working over them and marveled at the incomplete texts. She did not mention his upcoming move to Eldred Hall, but he could see in her eyes that she grieved over it. He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. Twenty-four miles was not so far away. They would see each other all the time, and no one would expect someone his age to live alone full-time. He re-read the strange letter he'd received to be sure he still remembered it accurately. 'Find your own way' it demanded, and he was. He certainly had a reason for the chaos his move would cause. He'd been wrong to think the announcement of Thor's coronation meant that his life no longer had a plan, and had lost valuable time moping over his lot. Asgard's power wasn't as absolute as they pretended it was, after all.

While some of what was in his chambers was actually his own, much of the furnishings belonged to the palace and would stay. He'd never had Eldred Hall outfitted as a residence, and whole sections of the palatial building had been sealed off due to lack of use. Behind those sealed doors the building was still set up much the way it was when the previous Thane died, though of course his personal possessions had been either sent with him to Valhalla or returned to his rather distant cousins. The crown had been renting the ground and third floors out by the month to those who wanted to visit the capital while still sleeping in the relative quiet of the countryside well before the hold came into his possession, and it had been host to enough drunken revelry and clandestine romance that Loki was quite happy to see all the linens used as tinder.

The late Thane of Eldred Hall was a dull man with no sense of style. Everything about the building was blocky, thick, and blunt. That had meant that it was well-equipped to be rented, since the rugged furnishings could take the abuse of careless tenants. Had Loki unlimited funds and time he would have the whole building gutted, but he needed the place functional enough for him to at least nominally live there in two months and he didn't want the gossip of breaking the current leases. He had a rough estimate of what this would cost and the figure was large enough that it gave him pause even with the exceptionally deep pockets he'd grown up with. He had the money, that wasn't an issue, but rebuilding the Hall as he wanted was something that became exponentially more expensive the less time he spent doing it. He had a few architectural sketches in his workshop that he'd made back when he was first given the hold, but they had been drawn centuries ago with the assumption that he'd keep renting the place. On top of the difficulty and waste rushing in without proper planning would cause, if he spent a king's ransom to move out of the palace the political connotations would be dire.

Loki planned to spend Saturday in the market. After going over what was minimally acceptable his servants gave him a list of what needed to be done or purchased before he moved in, and it wasn't short. He could have had his servants do all the leg work for him, but he wanted to do more than just ask for the style of his chambers to be recreated. Even if he completely remodeled the hall over time, he'd have to live with these decisions in the meantime and he really didn't want it to be something he'd need to redo in a few years. It had taken him until he'd been dressed and fed to admit to himself that he was at a loss for how to go about this and would not be able to go alone and get anything productive done. Apparently, he was the last person to realize this. Sven appeared wearing his best clothes and carrying an enchanted clipboard with a tidy list of goals for the outing. One of Mother's gray-haired handmaids came in just behind and Loki decided he wouldn't mind the potential gossip if it meant he avoided making a greater fool of himself.

When the near-infinite multitude of choices he was facing properly dawned on him Loki took a break for an early lunch at a quiet cafe. He was still missing a significant amount of weight despite a week of large meals. Then again, he was also burning energy with his morning yoga, late nights of study, occasional target practice with his knives, and hours spent using magic in his workshop. He talked over their mission with his two assistants and managed to narrow things down quite a bit. Sven was just as lost as he was, but mother's handmaid was an artistic woman who had a hand in decorating his current chambers when he first moved out of the nursery. Loki knew what he wanted, it was just a matter of not getting swept away by the fine details until after the foundational aspects were locked in. They all laughed at the helplessness of young men in the face of a wife's work, and Loki was inspired.

It was late in the afternoon when Loki returned to the palace. He could hear merrymaking from Thor's chambers as he expected. He ducked into his bathroom to quickly clean up after a long day in the summer sun. He had little idea if Sif preferred her men well-groomed or rough, but he was usually well-groomed and it was a bit early in the game to change his habits. In an effort to help bend the rumor mill in the direction he wanted Loki had gone without his usual vests all week, but as he stood in front of the mirror in a usually tight-fitting tunic all he could see was how much smaller he was than Thor. They were nearly the same height, true, but Loki was extremely lean by comparison. Thin as a rake, Tyr and Njor had agreed, though he was strong and solid. It occurred to him that he had not gone after a woman this way before. He'd flirted with women that came up to him and followed up with the occasional note or dance, but he had not pursued a specific one past any initial rejection. Nor had he ever set his sights on someone who had not flirted with him directly in the first place, always ensuring that he had some chance at success before acting. He'd been ignoring Sif for Thor's sake for years, but this was new and the novelty was exciting on its own. In the end he grabbed one of his less ornate leather vests in a muted blue. If someone commented on the change he'd be able to blame it on the heat of noon contrasted against the current cool breeze.

A servant led him into Thor's chambers and out onto the patio. The folding wall was stored away, making the front room and patio into one continuous space and letting the heat from the fire pit blow away on the wind. The inmate light of a central fire was Thor's preference, and it was also being used to keep snacks warm. The usual crowd was spread out on the patio furniture. Loki claimed a lounge chair next to Sif's. Thor was settled into an armchair opposite Sif, something she often arraigned so that Thor was looking at her by default. Not a bad strategy, perhaps, but Loki had never been beaten by Sif in a game of tactics. Loki tilted his head back against the lounger and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You look worn out, brother," Thor observed.

"If I hear anyone speak of women's work as if it is some light and easy thing I think I shall have to take up arms to correct them," Loki sighed dramatically. "Even after borrowing one of Mother's handmaids I could barely manage. It is little wonder so many men with means choose to live in the barracks until they have a wife to run a house."

"What work do you have to do? Just tell the servants to clean up the place," Volstagg scoffed.

"Ah, but what color and fabric should the bedclothes be? Oh, but the frame is damaged and ugly so the whole bed needs replacing also, so here are twenty different pictures and when you've chosen from those there are fifty variations of _that_ , not counting the color of the wood. Everything has symbolism and meaning beyond just what I enjoy looking at and the more public areas of the house have to be fit for my station according to that symbolism," Loki huffed. "I have an entire hall to rebuild and refurnish, though thankfully I can put off much of the work. It is too much of a mess for me to receive official visitors even with a deep scouring, and I'd never gotten around to anything more than fresh paint and the minimum repairs. The furnishings have in some cases quite literally been ridden as hard as a rented horse and put away wet besides."

"Then don't do it," Thor argued.

"It's done, Thor. When the Harvest Festival is over I will send out invitations for my name day celebrations from Eldred Hall," Loki shook his head.

"Why?" Fandral asked. "It's not like you didn't know Thor was getting the crown."

"It's spiteful and petty," Siff answered, "why wouldn't he do it?"

"Have you talked to your grandfather at all?" Loki asked quietly.

"You did get to him!" Sif accused, angrily stabbing a finger in his direction. "I don't know what you said to twist him around, but if you dare do anything like that again you will answer me in combat."

"What?" Loki asked, a bewildered expression plastered on his face. "Thor, has Grandmaster Tyr spoken to you about the possible danger to the realm?" Sif's angry glare blanked out and slowly settled into confusion. The others didn't seem to understand her outburst, and they understood Loki's words even less.

"No, brother, he has not spoken to me in some time. I have heard no report of danger to the realm, either. What threat is there?" Thor asked, his hand drifting to Mjolnir's hilt.

"It is nothing dire, just a matter of particularly distasteful politics. This isn't just a whim." It had been a whim when he'd threatened to leave, and if he'd not been dismissed when he asked for a truth he had a right to know that would likely have been the end of it. Thanks to Thor's bellowing his intentions to the four winds none of that mattered now. "Even if I wanted to change my mind, I most certainly can't take it back now that word of it has spread beyond the Palace walls."

"Blackmail?" Hogun asked.

"No, not as such, though there could be dire consequences for me either if I stay here or if I go and I hope I am choosing the better option for all involved. Thor, you have the loyalty of the entire warrior caste, of that there is no doubt, but… there is always some unrest when power changes hands. That must be guarded against," Loki explained with obvious reluctance. "Grandmaster Tyr has noticed early signs of rebellion in certain quarters over the last year."

"Who are they?" Thor demanded. "Who would dare forget their place."

"If only it was as simple as that," Loki moaned. For a few minutes everyone was talking at once, except Sif who was startled into silence. Loki could guess that Tyr had only spoken of private matters with her, or had broached the subject after she was angry and no longer listening properly. After several attempts at calming the angry warriors Loki conjured a bright flash of light and a stunning bang. He waited while they blinked glaring eyes at him for their hearing to return.

"I am sorry, Thor, but you can't hear my answer to your many questions if you are busy shouting over me. There is no one to fight, not yet and not ever if we comport ourselves as princes ought to. There are those among the artisans gifted with strong seidr who think that if I take the throne their lives can be much improved and if you do they will at best remain the same," Loki insisted. "Among the common people there is argument over your temper and suitability, and some see me as being less likely to to to war over trivialities. I want it to be as clear as possible that that preference is folly and nonsense. I've spoken with most everyone I trust about how I can best handle the situation. In the end, I came to this course of action after speaking with Father."

"Father does not want you to move out," Thor rumbled like distant thunder.

"Yet he doesn't stop me because he doesn't have a better idea. No one imagined there would be any resistance to your ascension until after the announcement," Loki huffed, dropping back down onto his seat. "At least we were lucky to see signs now, while they are small and easily handled, instead of several years from now when they had time to organize."

"Some might think that you setting up your own house is a prelude to a coup," Volstagg accused.

"Careful, Volstagg, lest you commit treason yourself with your accusations," Loki warned. "If others heard you say that they might believe it, and it would carry to the ears of those who imagine I would thank them for raising arms against my brother. You are a member of Thor's honor guard, your words have weight. If I hear you swinging that weight around without care I will charge you with sedition and end this problem all the more swiftly with a very public demonstration of my opinion of such notions." Volstagg waved off the threat as if Loki didn't have the power to do exactly that. Only Hogun looked to have taken Loki's casually voiced threat as genuine.

"You really think people would protest Thor's coronation?" Fandral asked, deep confusion cut into his face.

"Do you think I would hurt my Mother so badly without good reason?" Loki asked. "None of our family wants me to move to Eldred Hall, myself included. If my developing plans had remained private and contained within our family I'd have the chance to back out, but word of my desire to move out made it to the public ear the very same night I floated the idea. I have been there this week and it stinks of spilled wine and adultery. It will mean a month of scrubbing before I can bear to sleep in that filthy place, and that is after I've had the rugs burned."

"Honor-less dogs," Volstagg grumbled. "Sneaking about in shadow instead of standing up like a man and stating his grievances."

"It is a kind of cowardice, but not how you imagine. Many of them are commoners worried over their family's future," Loki soothed. "They fear the unknown, like children. That is why those who know better must lead them. The problem is that they trust my judgment over others for some reason, and are looking to my actions to dictate their response to this fresh news. The danger is that if we lose our heads and act rashly in response, the consequences become a more literal manifestation of those words. I assure you none is more shocked than I to see such misguided loyalty pop up in my wake."

"So, you were thinking of moving to the countryside… why?" Sif asked. The other warriors nodded and looked at Loki expectantly.

"What does it gain you, that you had these plans before now?" Hogun asked when Loki hesitated.

"I go to find my own way," Loki supplied. "You can't expect me to stand in Thor's shadow forever. I… yes, I would have liked the luxury of remaining a boy for a while longer. I had originally planned on releasing my claim on Eldred Hall as soon as I was able in order to dedicate a few years to travel without hindrance, but this was always my burden by right of my birth. I have taken oaths to serve Asgard's best interest, even at my own expense. Perhaps when the dust settles I can think again of an extended trip to study exotic magic."

"You travel every year," Thor observed.

"For a month, maybe," Loki waved a hand irritably. "That doesn't allow for any in-depth study. When I am lucky I can bring copies of texts back with me. When I am not I hear only commoner's tavern gossip and have achieved little on that front."

"And the formal tour of the realm you came up with will delay that even further," Fandral pointed out.

"Yes, that is part of it too, but also its own thing. I'd want to do that even if there was no trouble. Like I said, the trip will gain the favor of the Jarls and Thanes, and give them the opportunity to be re-acquainted with us - with both of us. Several of them have not seen us in person since we were conscripts with peach-fuzz for hair," Loki pointed out, pausing for a beat while the men cast their minds back to fond memories. For all his love of magic, he had fond memories of his conscription as well. He actually thought it was a pity he'd only had one century before his duty as prince called him home. Based on station, all other young men had between two and five centuries of compulsory military service starting when they passed their combat trials. Volstagg, like most of the Warrior caste, would spend his whole life in the military even though he was free to leave the service if his family needed him. Technically Fandral was still serving his five-century term as a high-born member of the warrior caste, though he made officer quickly and hadn't needed to keep the short hair of a conscript for more than a decade. Loki's term had been similar, and he still exchanged yule gifts with a few of the men he'd commanded. He was very proud that he'd only had one casualty under his command in his entire conscription.

"They will be pushing daughters at us, no doubt, and we'll have to navigate that based more on politics than how fair they might be," Loki said when he was sure he had their attention again. Thor's face split into a large grin. "Mother will likely have us memorizing who is and isn't safe to flirt with before long. I will _not_ be your minder. It would undermine the entire point of the trip." Loki shifted in obvious irritation and let a slight pout set his features.

"Come now, brother, you were just a moment ago lamenting that you had no lady to help you set up your home," Thor laughed.

"That doesn't mean I want just any lady," Loki mumbled, his voice soft and only just loud enough to carry over the chuckles of Volstagg and Fandral. He dropped his head back onto the lounge and huffed. Talk turned to the Jarls and their courts. Loki let his eyes drift to Sif. She wasn't paying him much attention, but it was looking like he had time on his side. The Jarls each had their own court and calendar to consider. It could take a couple years to set it up even if he wasn't taking his time, and he only had to get Sif to think that being Loki's escort would do more for her than being Thor's bodyguard. That should be marginally less difficult than getting a pig to fly.

Loki turned the conversation back toward his troubles outfitting his hold. He pulled out the narrow scroll his servants gave him detailing what needed done when they accused him of exaggerating. When they had seen the strip uncurled to beyond the length of his arm they made merry at his misfortune of owning a house in such disrepair. Loki grumbled about how he'd kept the crown's custom of renting it out for a modest fee and maintaining it by that fashion. He lamented not having the foresight to have it improved to his taste, and left the scroll in a heap between him and Sif. When the servants brought up dinner talk turned again to the tour and where they were looking forward to visit.

Thor had requested a large roast that was put on a spit over the fire with side dishes spread out among them and passed around. They carved off what they wanted from the roast themselves. It was a family-style way of serving a small group that Loki remembered praising during a trip to Vanaheim with his brother. He wondered if Thor was trying to be nice to him, by ordering up food he liked served in an interesting way. It made him smile.

"Forget to come to lunch today?" Fandral asked Loki suddenly. Loki swallowed his mouthful of potato quickly.

"I had an early lunch, why?"

"You're eating like you haven't seen food in a week," Sif commented.

"I'm trying to get back up to my normal weight," Loki shrugged. "You know, some of the Jarls in the highlands favor formal balls. If memory serves…"

"Hold on, what normal weight?" Volstagg asked. "You've always been a stick."

"Hadn't you noticed?" Hogun asked. "When Prince Loki came home from his trip he had left half of himself behind. It was worrisome."

"I used too much magic," he dismissed. "It's nothing."

"You're still hungry from the road?" Fandral wondered. "It's been a week."

"Mother told me that magic used to save a struggling babe is as draining as a month of intense battle, and that Loki did not have good food to back it up. More importantly, she said that it was rude to mention the consequence of such magic unprompted," Thor cautioned.

"It's fine, Thor," Loki assured. "The concern is welcome, but I'm in no danger. I came straight home as soon as I was able and have been eating well since. Not quite as much as Volstagg, perhaps," Loki trailed off as they all erupted into laughter. No one ate as much as Volstagg. "The Lady Tyrswife caught sight of me when I passed by on my way home and immediately started baking. I've been snacking on her meat pies and mother's sweetbreads all week and I still can't set my belt to the usual mark for fear of embarrassing myself."

"You will need a good cook in Eldred hall, then," Sif observed. Loki fiddled with the curled paper until he found the kitchen section and showed it to her.

"More than just a cook. The Hall was set up to receive food services from a baker and his wife down the hill, and aside from the most basic amenities the equipment is broken down from a mixture of misuse and neglect," Loki said, going back to his potatoes. Sif narrowed her eyes at the list.

"What is this?" she asked, pointing at a jumble of angular scribbles in the margin.

"Shorthand runes: materials, names, and other ideas from when I first went through it," Loki explained. "I should cross most of that out anyway. Sven has been negotiating with his elder sister and her family about leaving the kitchens here, but I don't want to take them with me if they don't want to come. If they do I'll leave a lot of those decisions to her since she'll be the one actually in the kitchen most of the day. Sven himself is coming, so that is a relief."

"You are too close to that servant," Thor scoffed.

"He may be lesser, but he is more valuable to me in some ways than many of the Lords in the court. You do not treat a hunting hound with disrespect and get good work out of it," Loki deflected.

"How cute," Fandral cooed, "the little prince is still making friends in the kitchens. Do you play tag together?"

"Servants are servants," Volstagg observed, "but there are cooks and then there are chefs. Don't get a cook, get a chef."

"I am hoping being able to design her own kitchen will be a good enough lure," Loki replied. "She's not yet a chef here because the older ones haven't retired, and she wants the chance, but her husband's family has served in the palace for generations. It is a significant point of pride among the lesser born families. She is not the only available cook with the necessary talent, but she is my first choice."

"I don't like it," Thor muttered. Loki looked at him curiously. "I have seen how you speak to this man, and he's near enough our age… Now you take him out with you like a wife to set up a household and want his family to live with you." Loki reeled.

"No, I, how can you come to such flights of fancy? You do know most households are two families: one high and one low," Loki squawked.

"I'm not saying anything against you, brother, but I wonder of his motives. Does he have a wife?" Thor asked.

"No, but neither do you."

"Don't the lower classes pair off earlier?" Fandral thought aloud.

"No," Hogun said between sips of ale.

"Are you actually implying that my manservant has designs upon my virtue?" Loki asked. Thor's expression was answer enough. "You are. How do I even begin? You see me turned into a woman once, and suddenly I am always a damsel in distress."

"Loki, that is not how," Thor began, but his shoulders were rounded and his voice wavering.

"That is exactly how it is, brother," Loki argued. "I don't need my magic to detect the truth when it is written on you in bold letters." Thor's eyes darted around, clearly having forgotten Loki had changed himself in public.

"In future, there may be times when such thoughts are necessary," Thor blundered.

"You are referring to my biological needs as a changeling," Loki observed.

"What sort of needs?" Sif asked, giving Loki an evaluating look.

"Certain gifts of seidr are like muscles. To keep them healthy and in good working order they need use. When I changed myself and tricked you at the party I hurt myself badly, but did not notice right away. Imagine a warrior who never trained his left arm, and then suddenly tried to lift as much with it as he could his right," Loki explained, though it was a poor analogy. He wasn't sure a proper explanation could be given without revealing all the shaming details.

"So it was your own fault for being irresponsible," Volstagg accused.

"No, it was ignorance," Loki admitted.

"You claim ignorance?" Fandral barked. "Someone check to see if we have fallen into another reality."

"I have never claimed to know everything, though I have claimed on several occasions I was both smarter and more informed than you. It is a low bar to set for a scholar, admittedly," Loki drawled. The smirk fell of Fandral's face. "I hadn't expected that side effect of using my ability so boldly, and was ill in private later on, as I said before. Of course, Eir helped me correct my mistake. I recently found out both Grandmaster Tyr and General Njor know a great deal about it as well, and that has been a boon to me. Though, as a consequence they have been telling tales of how I used to abuse my ability when I was small. I would run around as a puppy instead of a toddler, and occasionally I would get mixed up in Tyr's hounds. Njor and his wife would find me as a fawn or rabbit in their back garden, nibbling herbs. Apparently, several in the court thought it was the cutest thing they'd yet seen, but given how often I escaped the nursery also quite dangerous."

"I don't remember that," Thor chimed in, a frown on his face.

"Don't you remember how father put an end to my changing?" Loki asked lightly. Thor blanched. "It doesn't matter anymore. I've been grown enough to understand that I can't wear scales or fur to court aside from on armor for ages, and I should have started training this ability as soon as that was the case. I didn't, and passing around blame for why I did not is not productive."

"That was why you were in isolation with Eir," Sif said with dawning realization. "You had an accident and were disfigured."

"It wasn't vanity, "Loki defended. "I was bleeding and miserable, as Thor saw." Thor turned white with alarm, but Loki wasn't about to tell the full truth to these gossiping fools. It wasn't often his brother got to see how easily Loki could say only true things and be so deeply misunderstood that he got accused of spreading lies. Thor had often relied on Loki's truth spells in the past when looking for information. When he became king he would be dealing with people who schemed for a living, and if he relied too much on such methods it could lead to bad ends. This was a good opportunity for his brother to remember and understand those limitations better.

"That maid had a blood disease!" Fandral predictably chirped. "She couldn't be in the healing wing with you for fear of spreading it to you, and then you would have spread it further."

"The blood of a sorcerer or sorceress is powerful for several reasons," Loki replied in an agreeable tone. "The healers take care to sterilize everything and account for every drop spilled, but accidents can happen."

"It would not be worth even a small risk. I have heard that changelings are a form of elemental, and such blood is tricky," Hogun agreed. "There is too much magic in it to easily contain." Loki sipped his drink. Thor looked around at his friends stiffly, as if any moment the full truth would out itself, but then his brow crinkled in confusion. His friends had not put the facts together in the right order even though they had only truth to work with, and Loki could see that Thor couldn't follow how that worked. It was rather nice to have something that was just between the two of them again. They had been inseparable once, but then Thor started gathering friends that never left him alone.

"It's fine, Thor. I will not be so caught-out again. You don't have to worry that my most trusted servant, a person with no spark of magic to his name and much to lose should I fall to harm, will do a mischief against my virtue," Loki chuckled through the formal euphemism. "After how efficiently Samson was taken down I doubt anyone will dare make an attempt at such a thing." There, now the whole business was neatly wrapped up. The full truth was irrelevant as long as the meaning and effect of the reconstructed story was the same.

"Ah, so that is the way of it," Volstagg grumbled. "A hideous thing to attempt, to force a magic for such reasons." The others looked suitably green.

"I would be most appreciative if it was put out of mind," Loki asked politely. "It is considered rude to talk of such things among sorcerers, and I have only been as clear as I have been because you are trustworthy and not trained in such arts as would make the sequence of events obvious. It startles me sometimes how badly misconceptions and assumptions can twist the truth. This is a very private matter; I would not want the details spoken of freely for fear that only select parts would be repeated." Sif gagged.

"That is even more disgusting than what I thought he'd done," she declared.

"Some men will go after any skirt, and the more reluctant the better," Loki shrugged. "It is an evil as old as time, but I do thank you for the support." When he met Thor's eyes he saw that his brother had realized Loki had been pleading to him more than the others for silence.

"Well, brother, if this is the path that we must tread, then we should face the challenge properly," Thor declared. "You said you have too much to do. What aid do you need?"

"What I really need is time spent in my workshop going over the current floor plan and fashioning new architectural drawings to plan for future renovations. I can get by on a bare minimum in the short term, but the hall is ill designed on a basic level. Some rooms are too small or oddly shaped, others placed in a fashion counter to my habits. I have several people helping me schedule the tour…"

"Already?" Volstagg asked sharply. "The Queen ordered us to remain in the capitol until the Harvest Festival."

"It will take great effort to organize, even if we plan to do it several years from now we have to begin immediately," Loki informed him. "Thor, if you can attend the courts instead of the training grounds next week it would be a great help. Get involved in planning the tour. Talk to the Grandmaster first, Njor is still a bit cross with you over the slight."

"I apologized," Thor dismissed. "What does he have to be cross about, anyway? I did not say I would go, and then I did not go."

"Don't be dense. It was a gathering of all the highest-level military leaders in the realm. Your absence was conspicuous," Loki scoffed right back at him. "Don't pretend you don't understand where you erred when we have already had this conversation and you admitted it." The other warriors looked a bit curious at that. Loki wondered if his brother was as naive about lies of omission as he seemed to be.

"He shouldn't still be cross, after I have apologized," Thor insisted.

"Yet he is, and nothing more can be done until he decides to forgive you. The other generals have not forgotten about it either, as you should already know. Just don't miss the next invitation and it will be forgotten," Loki suggested.

"I have been absent from the training grounds all this last week," Thor complained.

"Then what days can you be to court? We can't both be absent, we've made that mistake once already this month," Loki needled. Thor pursed his lips and didn't answer. "Given where you have been this last week and why, how about this: you take Monday and Thursday, I'll take Tuesday and Friday, and we'll both go Wednesday."

"Why both on Wednesday?" Fandral asked.

"How else do you divide up five mornings worth of work? Wednesdays tend to be full of the most tedious things, anyway," Loki shrugged. "There aren't any trials going on at the training grounds or special exercises in need of oversight. You can be spared."

"I suppose," Thor agreed.

"Are there any mock battles planned between now and the festival?" Loki asked.

"No,"Volstagg answered.

"We had one as the celebrations were coming to a close," Sif added.

"Too soon for another, and I probably shouldn't be seen fighting against you anyway, even as sport," Loki lamented. That would have been a great way to thank Thor for his help, and also shed some of his own frustrations.

"We could work together during the next battle," Thor suggested, sitting up straight once more.

"Make sure I get the date ahead of time, I don't want to miss it," Loki agreed. "Though I can only imagine what handicap the Grandmaster will orchestrate to balance having both of us on one side."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eldred Hall exists in the comics. That's all I know about it from the comics: that it exists. *Holds up a banner that reads "In Name Only" over the fictional building.*


	8. Sunday with Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga is the Goddess of Motherhood for a reason, and not just because the Queen of Asgard traditionally takes that title.

As soon as he finished breakfast the next morning Loki met with his mother in the garden. She was wearing a brown dress and less ornate braids than usual. She asked him how he was dealing with Eldred Hall's disrepair and he brought her to his workshop. Rows of neatly organized potions and the delicate devices he used to analyze spell components and discern the guilt of criminals were closed into glass-front cabinets. A couple larger constructs useful in containing experiments were covered in protective sheets, their lights dimmed due to their inactivity. The blueprints for Eldred Hall were laid out on his main worktable in the middle of the converted office. He'd constructed an illusion of the support structures and the building's skeleton hung in the air near where he'd been working on his revised plans. When the enchanted door clicked closed he brightened the work lights.

"Loki," Mother began before he could start talking, "When I talked to you before you left on your trip you were not as upset as you are now. What did he say to you?"

"Father? Nothing," Loki said simply.

"There must have been something said, to make you want to move away," Mother sighed.

"I am upset that he said nothing. I am unworthy of a proper answer, it seems. He said he did as he thought best, a fine explanation had this come to light several hundred years ago. When I asked him for a proper answer he chose not to grant me one," Loki spat.

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing," he said with emphasis, "either to explain how his actions were just or to apologize for something unjust. I made a few accusations, but he wouldn't confirm anything." Loki didn't hold anything back from his mother, and let her see his lingering anger and pain in his stance and on his face. "I have a right to a proper explanation."

"You do. I'm sorry I can't give it to you," she apologized.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"I can't ever speak for Odin's motives," she said with a simple shrug. "In this case I don't know why he is being so stubborn. He had to know that one day he would have to have this conversation with you, and now yet another opportune time has come and passed. I can say this: you are our son. We are your family and we love you. We do not want to see you hurt or sad. He fears for you." Loki dismissed that last statement with a shake of his head.

"Fears for what? That my latent changeling nature will cause me to run off as another species and never return?" Loki questioned. "If so then his strategy is counter-productive in the extreme."

"He said he'd never seen you so upset. That you wept over it as you spoke to him, and you haven't let him see you cry since you were very small," Mother said. Loki flinched away, retroactively embarrassed that he'd started crying _before_ he'd retreated into his bedroom. He hadn't noticed at the time, as he'd thrown himself onto his bed to wait for Odin to leave.

"I told him he had lost all my trust, that were I another man's son I would expect him to render harsh judgment over my treatment as an abused child held under unjust and unlawful magical restraint, and I meant every word of it," Loki admitted. Mother gasped, and her hand flew to his arm in comfort, but she knew the law as well as he did. "I then gave him another opportunity to explain himself. He. Said. Nothing." Loki punctuated his words by bringing his fist down onto the worktable. "Before I left I accused him of some twisted prejudice against shape-shifters or changelings. He didn't deny it, but he didn't react as if that was his full reasoning. Before, he asked me not to leave on my yearly trip after I showed him that I had changed back into a man, as if I had done something terrible by finding out what I was and… I don't know. It has made me suddenly unworthy of the privileges I have earned."

"Loki, I," Mother started, but then buried her face in his chest. He embraced her loosely, accepting that there were things she couldn't say. "He has not spoken to me, either. Not properly about the root cause of it all."

"Do you know anything about it?" Loki asked her. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Loki. I can't answer you," she pleaded. Loki's anger swept away, replaced with deep concern.

"He has enforced this, specifically," Loki observed.

"I am his wife, but I am your mother. I will help you do whatever you feel you need to do to be right with yourself again," she promised. "Your father and I had another fight, and perhaps we need to have a third."

"He forbid you from talking about private matters that only pertain to me?" he clarified, disbelieving.

"It is not news, Loki. I have never been free to speak of what he tells me in private, not from the moment I took my wedding vows," Mother reminded him. "Even if I could tell you all I know, he is still hiding something from me as well. He has been for… f-for a long time." She stuttered on the edge of her vows with a sigh.

"Perhaps I was too kind when we spoke. I did not raise my voice nearly as much as I wish I had. Both Tyr and Njor think he has done an evil thing." Mother nodded at that, and Loki blinked. "You agree with them?"

"I have always tried my best," she said. "I have never wanted to keep such secrets from you." He tightened his hold on her hand for a moment before gesturing toward the blueprints.

"It is only twenty-four miles away. A leisurely ride by skiff or horse down a main road through attractive countryside. You will always be welcome to visit me," he assured her.

"I can say this much: he thinks it should not matter. In his own way, he has convinced himself over the years that nothing about your life will be changed by the truth, and therefore you do not need to know it," Mother spoke slowly, clearly testing the limits of the oaths she was under.

"He thinks that being a changeling means nothing?" Loki asked, but the words tasted false. "No, it clearly means a great deal to him. He has controlled my body, forcing me to remain a certain way until I am well past the age that reordering my life would be easy. I have no choice now, I cannot swap out my gender. Not that I want to abandon being a man, Mother, I don't quite feel that strongly about it. Yet this was my choice, my right given to me by the nature of my birth to pick how I will live according to my talents and interests, and he took that away." Mother sat down on a stool, one of his hands clasped in both of hers.

"I may not be able to give you all the answers you deserve, but I will always be here to listen," she offered. Loki knew the way of oaths of secrecy from his work with the court. Sometimes those bound could say nothing. Other times they could speak out against a false statement. It was often difficult to construct a good view of the truth, since the entire exercise was like discerning the shape of a thing from its shadow. Mother could not talk about her husband's reasoning for controlling Loki's nature, and it was not a new restriction. His reasons had also changed overtime, or else grown, and she was not as tightly bound to keep those new reasons to herself. How could he use that information? At what angle should he hold this wavering light to get a good view of the shadow?

"If he kept the geas on me long enough, then how I was when I was small would be utterly forgotten. Some might have wondered about it, but there were not so many in a position to know. Eventually it would be put out of mind and… it would be as if I was never anything other than what I look like now." Loki looked at his mother's face carefully, but she still had the same comforting smile. "I do not remember because of my age at the time, and if the binding held true and did no harm I would not have had the little lapses that I did. Lapses that required me to be made to forget, or maybe putting my ability out of mind was a part of the spell from the beginning. He could not just block the memory, or I would worry over the blank place in my mind until I broke into it. Even more so because the times I was able to overcome the geas were in dire moments."

"You are clever, Loki," mother encouraged. "We always knew that. Your father had the best of intentions, by his own reckoning."

"Not by yours," he prompted.

"Would I quarrel with him otherwise?" she asked, an amused smile on her lips.

"He hadn't forgotten the spell he put on me. This was deliberate, not forgetfulness. The longer it remained the better served his purpose was, and he excused the cruelty of it by convincing himself that it was better that I pretend I was never the person I was born as." Loki took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. "He honestly thinks I am better off without this. That I am better served to have this part of me carved out, like a pet bird with clipped wings."

"You are in distress now, and have decided to leave the palace permanently. It is hard to argue that you were not happier before," Mother cautioned.

"Yet my health is better now. I am less strained physically, I sleep deeper, and my reserves of seidr are suddenly more than they had been. What he did was not without consequence," Loki argued. "There was a fair chunk of my energy bound up unconsciously in fighting the geas. Even with the distractions and worries I have dealt with of late I have slept noticeably better than normal. I do not wake in a foul mood as I used to, and have even begun rising early enough to exercise before I bathe without having to scrape myself out of bed like a barnacle off a rock."

"The positives are less obvious than the negatives, for all that they are more permanent and will grow larger with time," Mother defended. "I hate to give you advice that will leave you in ignorance when this is something you have every right to know, but perhaps the best course to prove your point is to live well and be happy. Show him that you are better now, and he will be more inclined to tell you the rest of it. The effects of a few good nights of rest are subtle, but I doubt you would keep your temper over all this as well as you have otherwise."

"You mean that my actions seem out of character?" Loki asked her.

"You said yourself you wished you had shouted more. I think it was all the more troubling for him that you did not. It is much harder to put off your anger as that of an outraged child denied an amusement when your voice remains even and logical," Mother pointed out.

"I was not denied an amusement," Loki growled. "I was enchanted with a spell meant to neutralize and eventually break violent criminals, which robbed me of a natural talent and affected my memory."

"I know that, as does Eir, Tyr, Njor, and few others I can't name freely," Mother assured.

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?" Loki asked.

"I am trying to give you what you have asked for: the truth."

"It is not you who I am angry at for being untruthful," Loki admitted. "I was cross with you for a moment or two, but you have done right by me in every way since this came to light. You are incapable of soothing my anger at him, because you are not responsible for what he has done. You have admitted that you cannot, and the longer I stand here rooting around for shards of clarity in the things you are and are not able to tell me the more I hate him."

"Loki, he meant only the best for you from the beginning," Mother assured.

"I can't know that unless he tells me why!" Loki snapped, seething at how she was forced to repeat herself instead of explaining things as she clearly wanted to. "I do not even know if he has succeeded in convincing himself that that was his motivation. I know only that he hid something from me that I had a right to know, that every indication shows that this is cruelty meant to punish me for things beyond my ability to control, and that he has fallen out of the habit of speaking to me like a son. He wields the fact of my relation to him like a club: telling me I am his son as a substitute for an order to obey without question. Do you know how often I speak to him outside of official court proceedings? If I am neither presenting an argument to the court nor setting something on fire he will not so much as speak a simple greeting to me for weeks. At every turn the Norns thrust my age in my face, reminding me that I am still too young to grow a beard, that I still need the comfort of my mother's hugs to know the world is right, and that in another realm I would still be expected to run about playing childish games. If he wishes to treat me like a lesser Lord at his command, like I am not still a young man dependent on my family's love, then that is how I shall act toward him."

"I do not want to see our family split apart this way," Mother sighed, "but perhaps this is the best that can come of all this in the short term. A bit of distance will let both of you gain some perspective."

"One can live and hope," Loki allowed, falling back onto a stool.

"Your words are in conflict with each other, but I think that speaks to the state of your thoughts. Do you really feel you have been treated too much like a child by others recently?" Mother asked.

"No, not really. If anything, I have pushed my way into places far earlier than my age should allow. It is just how recent events have played out. The announcement of Thor's coronation has caused people to contrast us starkly, and in a way very uncomplimentary to both of us depending on the speaker. I do have a few childish mannerisms, but it is just a bit of fun," Loki confessed. Mother smiled and answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"The way you handle the slander against yourself is distinctly non-violent, and effective. You answer their childish name-calling with childish inconvenience. I think you are correct to demand to be treated as a man in your own right based on your accomplishments no matter your age, however you should not think you can't be both a son and a man in your father's eyes." After a moment's silence she looked to lighten the mood, and asked him with a chuckle, "In what realm do you imagine you would still be playing games all day?"

"I should give you some more of the texts I have translated. A Jotun my age would still be running around playing games outside of lessons," Loki said dismissively. Mother's face fell for a moment, but then lit up.

"You would really want to be playing tag if you had the chance?" she asked eagerly. Loki ignored the lighthearted jab and answered like a scholar.

"They come of age at eleven centuries, as I said before, but they do not mature gradually over the years. It happens all at once. From what I understand, their artisans are meant to finish their education and become masters of a craft before then," Loki explained, glad of the distraction. "They do not withhold advanced training of any kind to children, as you know. Yet outside of those highly advanced lessons they are still treated _as children_. I imagine it is impossible to be taken seriously while still being underfoot. Those my age would still be cuddled, carried, and given piggy-back rides, with the transition between childhood and adulthood occurring very abruptly during their blooming. They have nothing like our Coming Out ceremonies, something that would come around age nine hundred if they did celebrate the start of puberty, and do not separate childhood and adolescence at all. There is no such thing as a Young Adult Jotun, only children and adults."

"Blooming is what, exactly, if not like a Coming Out?" Mother asked, curiosity in every line of her body.

"As near as I can tell, it is a mating period of sorts at one’s coming of age, or else their beginning of physical maturity in that sense. In the time leading up to it they start to pair off. Unlike us, they aren't capable of much physical intimacy prior to then, but they do have vibrant chaste romances beginning as young as five centuries. I saw a few of those books, though I didn't copy any of them. I had to prioritize. While it is possible if improbable for an Aesir of seven or eight centuries to become a parent, a Jotun of that age still has all its genitalia housed within its body cavity and even the act is impossible," Loki described. "Those innocent romances sometimes last through their blooming, when the protective structure unfolds, and consummation becomes possible. That is accompanied by a strong urge to pair up. Not just physically, though that is no doubt part of it, but proper bonds of marriage. It would seem that they don't do well alone and have children very early as a rule. The Jotnar as a species are extremely social and quite communal, and they languish in isolation."

"They can die of loneliness," Mother chimed in. "I'd heard stories of it as a girl. They consider a broken heart the same as a terrible wound, and just as dangerous."

"I can't speak to that, but they do marry young and for life. Often as soon as they are capable of physical intimacy according to what I was told, though I am unsure of the statistics," Loki assured. "It is different. I can understand your curiosity about their culture, even if I don't quite understand why you find them as fascinating as you do."

"I'd never seen one before the war," Mother admitted.

"Never?" Loki asked. "The trade embargo wasn't in place until the war began."

"They didn't trade directly with Vanaheim much, and while it was not unheard of for a ship with a Jotun crew to come into port I never had the chance to meet one before I became Odin's bride. Before Thor was born I was scarcely allowed to leave the palace, and between that time and the start of the war I spent much of my day in the nursery," Mother explained. "I quite liked the first Jotun I met, but then I think that upset Odin terribly. It wasn't good politics. Still, given that interaction I can't think the caricature in the propaganda against them has any real truth to it."

"He, she, or ze must have been quite the person," Loki said thoughtfully.

"Ze?"

"The third gender they have."

"Oh, I suppose they would have a word for it. I thought that was a rare thing among them," she rushed to say.

"No, or at least it wasn't. Most of the upper class is inter - literally meaning between. That is their magically gifted gender, the same way Aesir consider that women naturally have more potential for magic then men," Loki explained. "All those with strong in-born magical gifts are inter. I am not sure if it is a social construct as it is here or if it is part of their nature. The books I saw suggest that having a greater connection to magic and having dual genders is somewhat of a chicken and egg conundrum. They require more magical energy to live healthfully, and so they naturally have a stronger awareness of seidr. Outside of that they don't have strong gender roles in their society that I can discern, so it may well be true. I'm beginning to think, though this is based on inferences and I do not have enough solid evidence to say for certain one way or the other, that they were once diverging into various sub-species back before travel through the void between worlds was common. The one that became the ruling class was all hermaphrodites and the others became the lower classes with traditional dual genders, and then over time the diverging races mixed back together to become a single species with three possible genders."

"Oh, well, that is different," Mother said slowly. It would seem something about them finally managed to disturb her. "So, men and women can do all the same jobs?"

"Yes, that seems to be the case, though there is some minor difference in how men and women are treated in social interactions. Rules of polite behavior for who has the right of way in a narrow corridor, methods of courting, and the like," Loki shrugged.

"I think, if they are as communal as they appear to be, that wouldn't be a problem," she decided with a little nod, all trace of discomfort gone. "Yes, since they don't have to rely on a single household being self-sufficient they don't need to split the work of cooking and mending with hunting and fighting. For a society without proper gender roles to function its members would have to be more interconnected, and that is just what the books I have describe. It also speaks to having children while still young, as the community cares for them as much as the parent does. That must be why they treat their children as a single group that is passed from home to home: some families would have what we would see as two wives mothering over their own brood as well as the children from pairs without the needed skills, and then the older children would spend more time with those they wished to emulate and learn from rather than caretakers." Loki pursed his lips at how she found this to be somehow commendable.

"It is a hair’s breadth from anarchy," Loki scoffed. "I cannot understand their hierarchy at all. They have nobility and recognize inborn talent, but children can learn any craft or follow any path without any concern for their parents' occupation."

"Asgard wasn't much different from that before a caste system was introduced to the realm. I'd go so far as to say it still isn't. If you remember your lessons properly, you would not call what this realm has a true caste system at all. In Vanaheim, we had countless generations of strict caste division with no cross-caste marriages. The talents of the common people were refined with their blood, our bodies are specialized according to the circumstances of our birth. We are made like different breeds of dogs, so disparate that we appear as different species to the untrained eye. We were bred to specific task and set on a single path with the only overlap being the training of girls to become good mothers and wives. In Asgard, you have division only between warriors, artisans, merchants, and peasants as broad categories. It is more of a class system than a caste system, with the ability to move into a more suitable profession without repercussion if a child's talents don't match its parents," mother lectured. "Do not mistake the word choices of politicians seeking to placate vassal states for facts."

"I am sorry, Mother. I did not mean to offend you," Loki apologized. Mother might not support an independent Vanaheim, but maintaining the identity and culture of her people as separate from that of Asgard had always been a delicate subject for her. "I suppose there are some similarities between Jotunheim of old and Asgard of old."

"Mixing together has its benefits as well. It makes a culture more flexible in times of great hardship. For all that the caste system is efficient and ensures that each man and woman is fully productive, it takes a generation for Vanaheim to shift its industry because it's people are so specialized. Had what happened to Jotunheim befallen Vanaheim instead, the realm would have fallen to ruin immediately rather than go into slow decline," she admitted. "I can't argue with Asgard's strength, and the Dwarves have a class system that is much closer to how Asgard currently operates than anything else. They are also doing quite well. The point is, there are many ways to order our lives among the nine realms, a basic lesson you should not forget."

"I… noticed that you bent rules for me, when I was small. It does resemble the way…" Loki trailed off.

"I took some inspiration from those books," she admitted. "You seemed to thrive after I did. You were always so curious, and you got into everything anyway. I just harnessed that into something productive. It wasn't the first method I tried, but it was the one that worked the best. It meant you spent more time in the library than the training ring, but you were happier. Does it bother you?"

"No, not really," Loki puffed out, exasperated. "It made me a scholar. I can't fault that when I enjoy it so much."

"It is something about yourself that you like," Mother said. Loki looked at her carefully. There were tears in her eyes, but her body language was relaxed and her expression happy. "Focus on things like that. Don't work so hard on this that you exhaust your mind. When it is too much, take a break. Do things you enjoy. Write out a list of things that make you happy and work them into your plans. Make Eldred Hall your sanctuary. These rooms will stay just as they are, and you will be welcome to use them anytime you want. You don't have to burn any bridges behind you. This is what all children do, eventually. They set up their own lives. As your mother, it is my job to let you go when you think you are ready, and if it turns out you are not I will catch you when you fall."


	9. A Week of Compromise: Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a productive Monday.

Loki woke very early Monday morning feeling better than he had since Thor's coronation was announced. In the end Mother didn't let him apologize again for being so abrupt with her the week before. He had not been ready to talk and she insisted that had he forced himself it wouldn't have helped. After their heart to heart Loki went through his blueprints with her. She was better at decorating finished spaces and knew little of structural architecture, but some of the images she helped him construct after lunch yesterday were deeply inspiring.

While he was moving through the yoga poses he decided that he would go to the training grounds. It was all well and good to practice balance and flexibility as he was, but he couldn't just do this. He was supporting his body weight in the various ridiculous poses, and that did test both his control of his muscles and his endurance in a way his combat training hadn't. However, since it was limited to only using his own weight and the resistance gained by counterbalancing it there was a limit to the strength one could possibly gain this way. It was much more difficult than he'd expected it to be in the beginning, but he'd been making steady gains even with the hiatus he took during his trip to Jotunheim.

The bit of casual practice he'd done to keep his knife throwing on point was more stress relief than training, and would not build strength in him either. He wanted to get back to basics and test his muscles. He could work more on Eldred Hall in the afternoon. Since he wasn't going to be at court he wouldn't have anything assigned to him for analysis. His whole day was free.

The training grounds were filling with men when Loki arrived, the many suns still rising. The young squires who aided the soldiers ran to and fro through the throng of men, delivering this or helping adjust that. Two of them swiftly helped Loki into his training armor before he dismissed them to their other duties. The Sergeant in charge of the day's exercises met him at the entrance to the barracks.

"Well met, my Prince," the Sergeant greeted him. He'd always had an odd way of speaking.

"What do you have in mind for the day?" Loki asked him.

"We were planning on rotating drills for the conscripts, with the enlisted men in the secondary field for two-on-two sparring," he replied simply. "What can we make ready for you?"

"Would it be disruptive for me to join the drills?" Loki asked. The Sergeant's eyes widened a little. Thor preferred sparring, and when he was here with Loki they usually turned it into a team sport. It had been a very long time since Loki came here without his brother, and he'd not stood with the conscripts since he'd been one himself. "It has been some time since I've had the sort of treatment a beardless man normally gets on these fields. The privileges of my station are not without their downsides."

"Of course, sir," he recovered swiftly. Good man. "It shouldn't be a problem at all."

"Then point me to someone who won't hold back out of deference to my station," Loki challenged. "I've been packed up in my case too long."

The captain Loki was pointed toward was a tough old dog with scars running up both his arms. The cohort he ran was comprised of the very worst Asgard had to offer her military. These boys were either the sons of vagrants with no respect for authority or pampered merchants who did not expect to use these skills again once their conscription was over. None of them passed their first combat trials to begin that conscription before they reached nine hundred, so they were closer to Loki's age than most of the untempered conscripts on the field. Captain Fenris ruled over them like the most ferocious dictator, forcing them to fit into the mold of a proper soldier. When the Sergeant told him his Prince wanted to get roughed up the man grinned like all his dreams had come true.

Loki was not disappointed. Captain Fenris barked orders and the cohort moved through the drills with precision, every sword flashing in the morning sun at the exact same moment. When someone had a foot out of place the Captain came down on them instantly. When Loki tested him by deviating from the prescribed motions he received the same treatment. Loki grinned wickedly while the man chewed him out and got serious. He could be sure he did not make another mistake, as this sort of man would not let him slide on a single toe out of place. The longer Loki went without error the louder the man berated his cohort. The captain went so far as to ask them if it felt good to be shown up by a sorcerer, though he had the good sense not to use any flagrantly disrespectful adjectives for his Prince. His language was otherwise far more colorful.

After the warm-up solo drills they paired off for strike and response. Captain Fenris' cohort was odd-numbered due to a 'stupid, avoidable injury caused by idiotic blundering' so Loki fell into the empty place facing north. Those facing north began by following whatever move they were ordered to make, and the one facing south countered the blow however they thought they should. They moved one strike at a time and stopped until the captain's increasing tempo of barking 'North' or 'South' prompted the next move. A round ended and reset when any two in the line were disarmed. Every so often the Captain mixed it up by adding in a command. 'Strike high South' or 'Step back North' forced them to make the prescribed move. Loki noticed that the Captain was intentionally handicapping him with the orders, as they were always bad moves for him or good moves for his opponent. It was a game of strategy that gave them a moment to think before they acted, good training for those unused to the fast pace of real battle. Loki, naturally, disarmed the most opponents even with the handicap.

"Good to see the young Prince on form, now that he is awake," the Captain snapped at him after a horn-blast signaled a rest period.

"I came to have the rust knocked off," Loki responded. "It does me no favors to be told kind things all day if I don't deserve them."

"How's this for no favors: Don't fuck up on my field when you know better," Fenris shouted in Loki's face.

"It won't happen again, Captain!" Loki answered like he was still a conscript, though perhaps some of his princely arrogance was still detectable. The captain's rugged face split into a snarl of a smile.

"I know it won't." The captain then turned to make sure all the dim-witted rejects in his cohort were properly resting and taking water instead of horsing around or arguing over something from the drills. Loki took a cup from one of the servant boys and worked through the cool-down exercise like a good soldier. He was on display here as much as he was everywhere else. Many of these disgraced boys were just beginning their conscription at an age where Loki had finished his, and if they did not know that before Captain Fenris had made sure they knew it now. The extra years they had spent trying to pass their combat trials meant decades away from their families that they were likely bitter over. That a sorcerer could do so much better than them was proof that they had no one to blame but themselves for their position, not that that would stop them. Any excuse they had in their mind for why they did poorly would not hold up well next to his example, and the Sergeant knew that when he put Loki here.

After the break, there was more strike and response, this time with a spear. Loki was better with a spear than a sword, but the simple drills were still good exercise. The Sergeant knew the spear was one of Loki's chosen weapons, and at the next break he ordered Loki to spar with one of the enlisted men to show the others how it was done. The exhibition match had several higher tier cohorts kneeling in the dust to watch. It was a good match, and the dark red magic built into the training ground was all that prevented serious injury. Loki would have sustained several nasty blows and his opponent would not have left alive otherwise. They were both well bruised and winded at the end, grinning from the rush of adrenaline.

The time had passed quickly and Loki followed the crowd into the mess hall as soon as the match was over. He ate the standard ration almost without tasting it, which was arguably the best way to eat food from that kitchen, and went back out on the grounds for wrestling. A few of the enlisted men had drifted onto the field, and Captain Fenris wasted no time in getting them to fall in. The Captain made snide comments about how long it had been since he'd had talent to work with, and how those who earned higher rank could get soft if they forgot what it took to get there in the first place. It was a brutal challenge none of the curious older soldiers could let pass, but for all the clever old dog built them up as examples he still made them do the same conscript-level drills that his cohort was doing.

* * *

When Loki finally sunk his tired body into his tub it was much later in the afternoon than he had planned. The conscripts would be training until well after sunset, but he had other duties. It was only after they moved on to ranged weapons that Loki noticed the time and bowed out. He bathed quickly and went immediately to his workshop. Mother was right, forcing himself to step away from the plans let him come back to them with fresh eyes, and the ideas they had come up with the day before were coming together into a viable plan easily.

It was past the first dinner bell when the door to his workshop banged open. Thor stomped into the room, resplendent in the gold, blue, and burgundy formal armor he wore to court. His face was set into a grim frown and his hand reached out to point accusingly at Loki.

"Brother, we had a deal. I would go to the court and you would be working to curb this rumored uprising," Thor boomed.

"Yes, and I have made good progress," Loki assured.

"You were at the training grounds when you said you had work to do here!"

"I spent nearly all of yesterday on these plans, until I'd worked myself into a fit of frustration. I went this morning to burn that off," Loki shrugged. "It is not like you have not done the same from time to time."

"But we had a deal," Thor insisted.

"I have not broken it. You offered to give me more time so that I could do all the things I need to do for two and a half days this week. I do need some time on the training grounds, and I was too frustrated to get anything done here until I kicked up some dust," Loki argued.

"You are twisting our agreement and you know it."

"It was Mother's idea," Loki countered. "Did you expect me to shut myself in here all day, making mistakes and burning one ruined blueprint after another? I have a lot to think about, and knocking a few heads together helped me think."

"You have gotten something done, then?" Thor asked dubiously. Loki beaconed him over to the plans.

"I was so hung up on how ugly and badly laid out the place looks that I was overwhelmed. The sealed sections had me badly turned around about the setup of the rooms. Once I stripped it down to the basic supports I found that it's layout wasn't so unreasonable, and I just have to keep thinking of it in small parts. If I re-purpose these rooms here and break down these two walls the ground floor makes much more sense," Loki explained, running his finger over the offending areas. "I think this wall, in particular, must have been added after it was built by some unfathomable idiot. The second the current tenants move out it is coming down. Paint is fast and cheap, and I can have all the essential areas clean and furnished to minimum standards within a month as long as I keep focused on them and leave the rest for later. I don't need to have the dining hall ready until my name day since I would hardly take my meals there alone, so that work can be done in the months between the Harvest Festival and Yule. So long as I make sure that the work is performed in the proper order I can get Eldred Hall in much better shape than I thought I could while living there, and I won't have to spend years doing it either."

"That is progress," Thor begrudgingly admitted.

"It is a compromise, but Mother pointed out that… Well, I'll have a wife one day," Loki shrugged. Thor laughed at him.

"Had you made your designs without leaving room for a family?" Thor asked jovially.

"No, but whoever she is will tear into the place with her own designs. Not only do I not need to fully decorate the whole building right away, there is no point in trying," Loki clarified. "There will be mostly empty and incomplete rooms when I move in, I will have to accept that. Over the next years I will have them set them up for guests one at a time; there is no rush. Later on some will be changed into a sewing room, a nursery, a child's bedroom…."

"Brother, are you alright?" Thor asked. Loki looked up from the blueprint, blinking rapidly.

"I didn't expect to want it," Loki confessed. Thor sunk down onto a stool next to him. "I always hated Eldred Hall. I only suggested moving out to Father in a fit of rage, and was stuck with that rash decision after the rumor mill went wild with it. Then Mother started talking about how this will make a lovely nursery and how the room next to what I will make my library is perfect for a lady's sewing room. I just… I want it. I want to make this building my home, for my future family. When it was only for myself the whole project was agony."

"Mother convinced you it is a good thing," Thor suggested.

"Yeah." Loki was embarrassed by how rough his voice sounded. "I felt a bit wrong-footed when it struck me how much I want these things in my future, and how happy planning them made me. I had always thought of myself doing grand research, uncovering lost magics and inventing new spells by combining disparate disciplines, or else at the front of some big infrastructure project to better the realm. I hadn't imagined myself sitting in my private study with a book, reading to a child on my lap. Once I had, the intensity of the vision scared me. So I went down to the training grounds to get my head beaten in by some grizzled old Captain. You can laugh at me now, if you want."

"I thought only maidens caught baby fever," Thor said, but without much humor.

"It is not unheard of for men to anticipate and plan for the future," Loki muttered. "You will have to do the same."

"I suppose. I have no intention of moving so quickly," Thor replied.

"Trust me, Thor, I would have said the same thing had you asked me even a few days ago. Yet here I am," Loki sighed and tapped one of the rooms on the third floor; the image of a nursery popped up out of the abstract architect's symbols, "letting Mother design rooms for my new home I have no immediate use for."

"She is the one with baby fever," Thor insisted. "You are just doing as you always do. Following her lead, and making her happy."

"Maybe," Loki supposed, waving a hand to dismiss the illusion. "What do you really think, Thor, about my moving out?"

"I wish you would stay here," Thor said simply.

"And do what, a century from now?"

"That would be a century from now." Loki gave his brother a withering look. "I suppose this would happen eventually if you did not release your claim to your Hold, even if you lived here in the palace until you had a wife. You said yourself that you wished to have more time before then, and that you had other plans for your life before you started on this stage. I feel much the same. You are my brother. I want you to be at my side."

"I can't go back on this," Loki lamented.

"For now, but when this threat of uprising is put to bed…" Thor started cheerfully.

"I can't live here," Loki insisted. "I had a spell put on me by our father that would have killed me if I hadn't been extremely lucky, and another to ensure I didn't notice the first."

"It was a mistake," Thor insisted, standing up and starting to pace.

"No, Thor. He had to know what a spell like that would do over time. If I were a less powerful sorcerer I would have wasted away and died slowly," Loki told to his worktable. Thunder cracked outside and Loki flinched.

"That can't be true." Thor boomed, but Loki was reasonably certain the anger wasn't directed at him.

"If he did not know, then he is doubly guilty. Ignorance is not innocence. It is not like those spells don't come in books with the warnings clearly written on the following page. This magic is a part of my substance. Removing it is like pulling a thread out of one of Mother's weavings, the whole thing unravels if it goes wrong. I talked to him, Thor. He hates changelings and seemed to think he could rid me of the condition. Mother can't tell me why, but after some serious thought and investigation, I believe it has to do with our grandmother," Loki explained quickly. "She was one, too."

"She was?" Thor asked. "I had heard a few nasty rumors about her, but I had not thought any held truth. I'd not ever heard that suggested."

"As far as I am aware, yes, she was a changeling, but it is not to be spoken of. I couldn't find it directly written, but she came from off-realm and not Vanaheim. You've seen the portraits, she was either a changeling or extremely adept at painting her face. Father won't talk about it. In any case, I had to get it from somewhere, right?" Loki asked, leaning back against the table. Thor nodded, looking around the room helplessly. "We can't tell anyone, or speak of this publicly."

"What?"

"He is the All-Father. Even in the most stable of times if it came out that he has not been a good father to his own children then there would swiftly be riots. To have it get out now, you'd be on the throne early via a coup as the best result. Mother has been kind about it, but I can't stay here. Not knowing how low I rank in his eyes," Loki said, voice flat.

"No, brother. You are over-reacting. It can't be as you say," Thor insisted, pacing around the room like a caged beast.

"He said it should not matter to me what was done," Loki explained slowly. "He put that spell on me and left it, deliberately. It seems to me that had I not accepted that this was to be my only form he'd have preferred I burn out my life's energy fighting it than accept me as a daughter or even as a predominantly male changeling, but that is not how it works. Accepting it didn't mean it didn't trouble me, for all that I forgot why I bruised and broke so easily on the training grounds. Were I not both strong enough and lucky enough to pry the geas loose long before now I would have gotten desperately ill and probably died. On top of that is the mind magic designed to force me to forget that I could use that ability unless I was in a dire situation, and does that not speak volumes about my mindset when I changed myself into a woman recently? Any of those things alone I would have a hard time forgiving, but all together? I don't have the will to try."

"Baulder," Thor began to say.

"No, no, no," Loki protested, leaping up from his seat and retreating toward the door. "I can't, Thor. Please. Don't speak of our brother to me now." Thor caught him by the shoulder.

"I only want to say that I know there are threats to our lives. I like to act like they always come from without, that I can always raise my hammer and be sure they fall, but we both know better," Thor said. Loki leaned into his brother. "You can not expect me to hear you talk of this in such terms and not think of him, or worry over your state of mind."

"I know. I'm trying not to think along those lines myself," Loki told him. It didn't look like Thor would relent. "This wound is too fresh, Thor. Talk to me about it again some other time, but for now know that I am well aware of the dangers I pose to myself."

"You belong at my side, brother, for that reason as much as every other. Tell me you will not hide all the time in Eldred Hall," Thor insisted. Loki stepped back and folded his hands in front of himself to be sure they weren't shaking.

"You will always be a welcome guest in my home, Thor, no matter where that is. I have no doubt that should I immerse myself in some research for too long I will find you bursting into my new library or workshop all the same," Loki assured warmly.

"I suppose you will," Thor admitted.

"I'm not moving all that far away, and it does not have to be all for the worse. Perhaps, we can take something positive away from this," Loki suggested.

"Like what?"

"Like this. How long has it been since we spent time together, as just the two of us? How long since we spoke of things so close to the heart, as nothing but brothers?" Loki asked, spreading his arms to encompass the room. "Perhaps it will be easier, if you are coming over to my home for dinner. We can make it a standing engagement, say the first Thursday of the month?"

"How could being further away make it more likely for us to spend time together? I see you much more than once a month, except when one of us is away," Thor dismissed.

"When we go hunting there is at least Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun with us," Loki explained. "If you are not dining with them then it is with our parents, and that is a rare thing of late as well. I go to the courts; you attend the training grounds. I go to a distant library; you are out leading a military operation. I call on you in your rooms, and there is either some woman and I leave quickly or a pile of friends and we speak briefly on light topics. There are thirty-seven paces from my front door to yours, yet you only call on me when you are angry at something. Then you wonder why I still play childish pranks on you."

"I call on you," Thor protested weakly, eyes dropping to the floor and brow crinkling as he tried to remember when he had last visited his brother in his apartment.

"The first Thursday of every month from now on, unless it clashes with some official event or we are away," Loki suggested. "That won't interfere with any regular activities in the palace, and I'm like as not to see you all those incidental times while going about my business the same as I always have. I'll be riding in every workday and staying in these rooms during most holy days, after all."

"You could just tell me this, without making me into a fool first," Thor grumbled.

"When has that ever worked?" Loki teased. Thor gave him a brotherly slap on the shoulder. "It was fine, for a time. You became a man and I hadn't yet, so I was left behind. I took a different path than you through that last bit of childhood, but there isn't so much difference between us. I caught up some time ago, it is past time everyone noticed."

"Yes," Thor said gravely. Loki tilted his head, concerned at the tone. "I spoke with Mother over lunch, and I heard her words on your lips just now. I left behind my little brother when he couldn't keep up with me, and he fell from my sight and my mind. Now I'm not sure I recognize the man standing in his place. She insisted on talking to me about that at great length. At first I laughed it off, but you know how she is. I can't really be surprised that you have grown from boy to man."

"That is generally what boys tend to do over time," Loki sarcastically observed. Thor slapped his arm again. Loki laughed.

"Are you incapable of remaining serious?" Thor asked.

"I think I have reached my limit for the day," Loki shot back. "You shall have to try again some other time, after I have refreshed my reserves." Thor barked out a laugh, and they both smiled.

"I think we may have been exaggerating how much you have changed," Thor teased.

"Well, I simply can't bear to disappoint."


	10. Tuesday's Construction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki uses one of his properly masculine talents and has some fun with some commoners.

Loki went to the court the next morning and breezed through his work easily. The bandits on trial were clearly guilty, and he took the evidence back to his workshop to process not expecting to discover anything new. He was able to pinpoint which of them was the most bloodstained, but all in all it was just a collection of things he needed to do before he could get back to his real work. He dumped the completed analysis onto the first clerk he saw and headed toward the stables. Once he was there he gave his mare some sugar as an advanced apology for the speed he was about to demand of her.

The ride to Eldred Hall took about an hour. The servants were crawling all over the place, every window flung open to let in fresh air. The last tenants left yesterday afternoon, a honeymooning Thane and his cow of a bride gone back to their own home to prepare for the 'early birth' of their first child. By all accounts, the man had spent more time drunk in the tavern down the road than with his new lady. Loki smiled at the bonfire two women were preparing out of the worst of the linens, rugs, and ruined furnishings. The common people tended to cling to some of the older traditions more than the merchants and nobility, but Loki had never been shy about joining in when he knew he'd enjoy himself. What could be salvaged would be sold or re-purposed, but it would be cathartic to see some of it burning.

Loki waved off the formal greetings of the workers, sending them back to their tasks. Sven gave him a quick summary of what had and hadn't been cleared out. The man had his clipboard in hand and was directing traffic with his usual efficiency. The stable and attached paddock was rapidly filling with everything salvageable, heavy tarps ready to cover what was being kept. Loki was pleased with how fast they were clearing out the old place. A stout man came up to him in the entranceway. His hands were thickly calloused and he had a belt full of carpenter's tools.

"Master Sigfried," Loki guessed.

"Prince Loki," the man answered with a smile. His voice was surprisingly light and smooth for such a large and rugged-looking man. "I didn't expect to see things already in motion when I arrived." The Master Builder was abruptly cut off as a pair of workers tried to push a stained couch out the door. They stopped when they saw who they were about to shove out of the way.

"Why don't we come through to the kitchen," Loki suggested. Sigfried nodded and they skirted around the embarrassed men. The kitchen had been stripped of everything not bolted down in the morning. The crusty remains of inept cooking and dirt from work boots made the room a good measure filthier than Loki would have preferred to show off, but at least they wouldn't be interrupted. The maids would start scrubbing the place down properly soon enough.

"Well," Sigfried huffed. "I usually do my first walk-through on a project like this while the building is in mothballs. That is an efficient operation you have going."

"Thank you. I am sorry to keep you waiting. I had expected to leave as soon as the court dismissed for lunch," Loki gave the token apology.

"I've never been on a renovation that went perfectly to expectations. It's a hazard of the craft," Sigfried admitted. He pulled out a pad of paper and opened it to show a tidy list of angular shorthand. "It gave me the chance to get a feel for the place. I've gotten some rough measurements and spotted a few things that need tending to. Exactly what sort of work do you want done?"

"I have been working on the ideas for some time, and I don't plan on doing all the work right away," Loki began. After considering the state of the woodblock table he pushed an abrasive spell across it with enough strength to kick up sawdust. Then, he pulled the blueprints out of his portable storage and laid them down on the acceptably clean section of table. "The full renovation I described in my letter to you stands, but it will have to be done in stages for simple practicality. I believe it would be safe to take down these two walls, but I wanted to confirm that with you before I commit to anything further along that line of thought." Sigfried considered the blueprints and compared them to his notes for a time.

"Neither one looks like it should be load-bearing," Sigfried confirmed. "I could crack open some of the plaster and take a look at how it's tied in. This wall in particular looks like a rushed addition. The others in the area are stone supporting the main beams for the second floor and it is simple wood frame. You can see how there should be access from the kitchen to the main dining hall this way, but this section was closed off to make another room. Maybe to make it into a large servant's bedroom or for storage."

"It is a storage area now, or was. Various types of thematic decorations as befit certain special occasions and tastes were stored there, and since I will no longer be renting the Hall out I have little use for them," Loki confirmed.

"Then it should come down fast and clean unless the man who put up the wall was a fool. I have a team of four I usually work with: a mason, a plumber, my apprentice, and a my partner Gearalt. Depending on how much of this you want done at once, I could get a bigger team of craftsmen, but not more than eight of us total before the Festival," Sigfried said casually, his attention half on the blueprints. "That's just the emblemed trades, of course, and they have their own men working under them. I can rustle up some simple laborers and novices for the menial labor. Perhaps two dozen men working at once, depending on your needs."

"This page has what I want to be done in the first stage," Loki explained as he pulled out the appropriate blueprint. "The numbering is in the lower corners."

"I see, whoever wrote these up did good work," the Master craftsman muttered.

"Thank you, I do try."

"Eh? You made these?" Sigfried tried not to look startled, his eyes darting to the trademark in the corner and finding Loki's complex seal next to the simplistic Apprentice Architect mark.

"I have been trained in a number of disciplines, not just in magic. I would not attempt such a project without a Master Craftsman to catch my mistakes, of course. I have only an apprentice's medallion for architecture," Loki spread out the other pages, careful of how they overlapped. "You have seen what I consider a possible end goal, and the first stage. This is a bit sudden, and I haven't had the time to go over the late stages as much as I'd like to yet. Much of what I want done in the short term is either hygienic or cosmetic, but the room we are in is the largest exception to that. As you can see, the kitchen has been left mostly to the care of the tenants with a courtesy cleaning between, and it has not faired well. I have taken requests from the woman who I hope to employ as my chef. This shows the details."

"Modest for a Hall this size," Sigfried observed. He looked from the design to the room's current state and back. A sly grin slipped over his face and he lifted the corner of a page to point at a section Queen Frigga had inexpertly drawn in. Loki mentally berated himself for not having copies to hand that didn't include his mother's daydreams. The man was much quicker at reading the blueprints than Loki would have assumed possible, but he was a master of the craft after all. "You'll want a larger cook-top or perhaps another full station if you are planning to live here this long."

"My Mother has had a hand in suggesting some of the late-stage designs," Loki dodged, shuffling the papers so that the offending area was covered again. "Most of them are naught but idle fancy, meant as a distraction from the real work."

"Too right," Sigfried chuckled, "it'll be another woman making those orders. If I might make a professional observation, based on my experience in re-making houses that are ill-suited for the growing families within them, then I'd tell you to put a copy of that in a safe place. Be sure to write a recent date on it very large first. When the time comes, take it out from under lock and key and just… leave it somewhere about the house. You'll know quick enough if she hates it or not, and then don't argue too much. It'll save you a month of headaches."

"Is decorating a nursery fraught with such dangers?" Loki asked idly.

"I've seen husbands spend a week or two sleeping next to their horse in the stable," Sigfried confirmed. "It isn't just nurseries, either, but any part of the house. It's part of my job to know when a client wants suggestions and when they already know what they want but just can't find the words, and a lot of husbands get caught in that pit when asking after a lady's preference. This job's a lucky one: I only have you to please and no Lady hanging around the corner waiting to contradict every third decision. This is a gray area of employment, you see: a man's work of building a house that will function well and stand strong for years, but also a woman's work of making it into a home. The two are sometimes viciously at odds."

"Well, I know what I'd like, but I could have hired a bunch of less talented men and given the orders myself if I didn't welcome a Master's suggestions. I need to have this place up to proper standards to receive guests before my name day - Victory Day," Loki clarified at the face Sigfried made.

"Pardon that, just thinking of how big a celebration that is, or how much space 'proper standards' for the Victory Day celebrations the Royal Household needs," Sigfried apologized. "Bit hard to forget when you were born, Sir." Loki shook his head.

"Just a private Name Day dinner, as you might have for yourself. The Victory Day celebrations are in the Palace. Usually, we have my dinner a bit after the fact. Back to the task at hand, the color and material choices and other trappings have been decided on. Much of that has more to do with practicality and symbolism than any real choice on my end, at least in the lower portion of the house. I will need the master suite finished in the first stage, of course. I'll be moving here, at least on paper, the day the Harvest Festival ends."

"Bit of politics? Never mind, not my area. Right, then, we don't have much time to be going back and forth with changes. Let me get some walls open and see how quick this can be done. That's the big question mark over all of this, and it's down to what we can't easily see. We've got about a day of demolition, maybe two if things get tricky. In the meantime we'll need paint and other basic supplies on order," Sigfried hurried through his explanation. "You've caught much of the same things I have, except I'm a bit more worried about the water stains along the baseboard here and here. It could have been a spilled keg or some such, but if that's rain you'll have mold and structural damage to worry about as well inside the walls. Maybe even if it isn't, depending on how well it got cleaned up and what it was. That's just one example. Some of this hygienic stuff, as you put it, is often hiding a bigger problem underneath, and isn't necessarily just the product of rowdy tenants."

"Wonderful," Loki sighed. "I'll let you get to it then. I'll be here for a while yet, as I want to be around in case any surprises pop up while the building is emptied. I had planned on busying myself by making a proper copy of the current blueprints while I'm here. It will be sunset at least before I leave, but I am unsure of your schedule," Loki said suggestively.

"If I can have a copy of the existing, the drafted stage one, and proposed final plans that would be good enough. We can go over the exact timeline and finalize the later stages once we've got the walls open, but I don't see a problem with getting things to a livable state within the allotted time," Sigfried suggested.

"Agreed," Loki nodded and Sigfried left. Over the clatter of boxes being packed and carried about Loki heard a hatchet or hammer start banging. He cast a muffling spell so he could concentrate on copying the blueprints - without his mother's fanciful suggestions.

Loki lit the bonfire himself at sundown and spent an hour or so meeting with the local people who came to see what was going on. Most of the hold's people were drawn up the hill in ones and twos by the commotion and the large blaze as their day's work ended, some with pots of food in hand to share at the impromptu bonfire party it became. The commoners were simple people, their homes close enough to the capital that they knew all the proper manners for dealing with nobles. Mainly they worked for him, be it on the ranch raising horses or in the fields raising crops. There was also a tavern with a couple rooms to rent, a baker, a tanner, and a seamstress that paid him taxes for living on his land. It wasn't really a town, but it was a bit more than just a crossroad between fields. He'd met with the various families before, but he disliked Eldred Hall's reputation enough that he hadn't made frequent visits. Overall they seemed happy that the big house on the hill would not be full of drunken lords on holiday anymore, and wished him well.


	11. Wednesday Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A royal family dinner.

Wednesday morning at court wasn't any more exciting than Tuesday had been. Word had gotten around by now that the buzz about Loki wanting to move to Eldred Hall was being permitted by the King and a couple of the court clerks wished him well. He clearly heard the underlying message that they wished him to leave swiftly and not come back, but paid them no heed. They had disliked him since he'd climbed his way to his high seat on a pile of academic achievement instead of waiting for the appropriate birthday, and Loki had no patience for any of them.

The presence of both the realm's princes had an interesting effect on the court. Clerks were a bit stiffer, petitioners a bit more nervous, and all in all things seemed to move faster by sheer force of personality. There weren't any trials today, and Loki couldn't decide if that was good or bad. The lack of recent arrests meant a lack of noticeable crime severe enough for the King's personal judgment, which was nice. On the other hand, it meant he and the other lawmen had little to do unless they wished to jump in with a comment on some point of law or observation on the routine proceedings, and that meant he wasn't actually working with Thor on anything as their father had bid him. Working near him, yes, and in turn the rest of the week. Perhaps he could make this a standing arrangement after he moved out. It would stand to reason that he would have less to do with the daily workings of the realm, except that he had claimed this seat because he wanted it. Aside from the tedium, this was supposedly the most important part of being a Prince: serving Asgard by hunting down those who would cause damage or spread fear, stripping them of their lies, and seeing them meet their judgment.

When he thought about it, and he had so little to do this morning that he couldn't avoid thinking about it, giving up this position would be more of a punishment for himself than anything else. Thor didn't like being here. He sat with the other military commanders, making off-topic comments when he grew bored and mechanically saying all the appropriate words when he had to speak. Most of the morning's business had to do with the preparations for the festival: re-issuing the special orders from last year that stationed guards in all the right places, hearing requests from this or that merchant who wanted to sell something officially approved, and the planning for the organized hunts that would occur through the week-long religious event. It could have been more interesting if it hadn't been distilled down to reams of numbers on paper and a line of nitpicking complaints about last year. He'd been in on the day-to-day operations long enough to reconstitute them into an image of what the festival would be like, but it was a strain on even his vivid imagination.

He went to join Brelyna in the Sorceress' dining hall for lunch. He needed a woman's second opinion on his design choices, Mother was too biased and worried over him to be objective, and her chambers weren't lined with lace or heaped over with kitsch clutter. Thor had apparently followed him, and the brothers stopped at the doorway unsure of how to interact for a moment. It had been eons since Thor had jogged down a corridor to catch Loki, and the role reversal was momentarily jarring.

"I had wanted to invite you to lunch with me, but you bolted from the Throne room faster than I could catch you," Thor explained.

"I arraigned to meet a friend here and look over the design for my front room a little. There are decisions I need to make before the week is out," Loki apologized. "You would be welcome to join me another time, but not just this moment."

"Mother wants us to dine together this evening," Thor blurted out. "I wanted you to know, it will be the four of us."

"Thank you for the message," Loki said blandly. "I have an appointment to keep."

The impending family dinner weighed on his mind all through the afternoon. Brelyna had some good suggestions and the semi-public setting had invited comments from the others taking their lunch in the bright tea room. Some of them he would ignore simply because of the source, others he would consider for the same reason, but in the end he left more convinced that his designs were good with only a few tweaks needed to refine them. He sent a runner to tell Sigfried he would be back at Eldred Hall tomorrow with a mind to finalize the plans, hoping all the while that there were no significant surprises lurking within the damaged walls or under the ruined flooring that would complicate his plans.

Sven informed him of the dinner arrangements in the early afternoon while he was drawing out what he hoped was a finalized set of blueprints. Father's lounge was a place for the old generals to retire to, though it could have a proper setup for a family dinner. Loki gave himself plenty of time to clean up. Thor was equally polished, loitering in the hallway so that they could go in together as always. When had dinner with his father present become something he needed so much mental preparation for? When had Thor noticed, or did he need the same?

"Good Evening Mother, Father," they greeted their parents nearly in unison. The King and Queen were sitting on opposite sides of the table, and Loki took the seat closer to the door instead of the one facing it. He'd rather have the easy exit than the comfort of a wall at his back tonight, and Odaric's clinical breakdown of his habits floated through his mind like poison gas. The greeting was echoed back at them and servants uncovered the dishes laid out on the table before disappearing completely, giving the Royal Family the rare luxury of proper privacy. Silence stretched, and Loki ate more because he could not excuse himself gracefully until his plate was clean than out of hunger.

"This is ridiculous," Mother snapped. "Odin, speak to your sons."

"What more is there to say?" Father asked. "They have both spoken their minds plainly."

"I have a Master Builder working to bring Eldred Hall up to proper standards. He has opened up segments of wall in the damaged areas to see if it needs more than simple repairs and cosmetic changes," Loki offered.

"You ought to have it completely rebuilt," Father replied.

"I don't have the time for that," Loki answered.

"The schedule was set by your own words, you have as much time as you want to have," Father argued. "You could just as easily declare the place unfit and remain in Gladsheim."

"That is true, brother," Thor predictably went after the suggestion with eagerness. "Then you could stay a while, and still have the political benefits of having given it a proper attempt."

"Consider my complaint against you upon my last homecoming," Loki suggested. Thor's face went blank. "The red-headed one."

"Oh, well… I won't do that again," Thor promised.

"Yes, you will, and not because you don't intend to keep your word. It will just happen, because of course it will. There isn't much either of us can do about it," Loki scoffed, "I'm half-woman myself, according to rumor."

"Loki, that is a dangerous mindset," Father warned.

"If only this species had a third option," Loki lamented. Mother rolled her eyes, clearly unhappy that he was being so antagonistic. "They exist on several other realms: Muspelheim, the fourth and seventh moons of Alfheim, Jotunheim…"

"You are my son," Father shouted.

"No one said I wasn't, or that the fact entitles you to dictate my thoughts," Loki shot back flippantly. "I was merely lamenting my lack of romantic companionship. Thor keeps stealing them out from under me. Sometimes literally. I don't see how sarcastically wishing for an option that won't go chasing after him is so unreasonable a jibe to wield against him."

"I apologized for that," Thor pointed out, "and I will still try not to do it again."

"It will be easier to keep that promise if my chambers are a bit further away from yours," Loki countered lightly. "You can't catch their eye from twenty-odd miles of distance after all."

"That is not reason to move out when you don't have to," Thor pouted.

"As I told you just two days ago, I want this. It was an idea hatched under poor circumstances, but now I want it on its own merits. I'll ride into the city to attend court and very little else will change," Loki assured. "You act like I am moving to some distant realm. I'd have done this anyway in another few decades."

"When you have severed ties with the palace, what keeps you returning here?" Father asked. Loki reeled, shocked at the mixture of regret and sarcasm.

"I like my life," Loki said softly. His voice sounded small and unconvincing to his own ears. "I like being involved in the pursuit of justice; I like being in service to the realm. I may have caught a severe case of Wanderlust, but there isn't much I am unhappy with in broad terms. This move will suit me well and aid me in fixing those things I am displeased with. I've had a few suggestions on how I might make up for my lack of female companionship, and the only viable options seem to be along Mother's reasoning."

"If you got married you'd hate it," Thor scoffed. "You're nearly a child yourself."

"I am not too young for romance," Loki snapped.

"I said nearly," Thor insisted. "You don't have a beard yet." Loki scowled. How dare Thor bring that up when he'd been convinced so recently that Loki shaved it off.

"I meant that I'd be looking for a higher quality woman, and a longer-term relationship instead of the kind you go through so quickly. Companions that last only a single night do not satisfy me in any case," Loki huffed. "If I end up taking her as a wife then it will be a job well done, but I doubt that would happen for years yet."

"You would be miserable," Father warned. "Your temperament is not right for commitment, and you are too young."

"Odin," Mother chimed in, "you should talk to him about this respectfully. Our boys are young men now. It is normal that their wants and needs are changing, and that they are thinking of what sort of man they have become. Loki has a right to seek out what he needs to properly plan for the future, and to pursue a serious relationship if that is what he desires."

"I have no desire to wait until I am old and gray to become a father," Loki boldly announced. "No offense to you, Mother, but the idea that you will likely not live to see your great-grandchildren does not fit well in my heart and mind. I certainly don't want that fate for myself. I'd much rather be like General Njor, and spend my silver years surrounded by a large family."

"You cannot raise even a small family and be missing much of the year," Father countered. "You are still very much a playful little boy. Just admit that this is spite against me."

"Perhaps I won't want to leave if I have good reason to stay," Loki shot back. "You are giving the throne to Thor, as we all knew you would. For all that this is no surprise, it still leaves me with the task of founding my own life. Scold me for not beginning such plans long ago if you like, but why shouldn't I set myself up to build a home and fill it with family?"

"You will need to be here in the palace as vizier," Father said simply, as if he'd already explained this a thousand times.

"What?" both Thor and Loki asked.

"I told you, I want you to work together. Thor will be king, and Loki will be his counsel," father declared.

"Wouldn't that be your place?" Loki asked.

"In the beginning. Thor can turn to me for aid in running the realm while I am still able, but when I Sleep that will fall to you and your mother. Over time we can both withdraw, and the position will become more permanently yours," Odin clarified. Loki's mind churned up Odaric and the clerk's discussion about aging family members, and he tried desperately not to think of his Father and his advanced age at the same moment.

"We can announce that, can't we?" Thor asked. Were he a dog he'd be wagging his tail and bouncing in anticipation. "That would quiet the unrest about my ascension and then everything will be solved."

"No, no there is too great a chance that would backfire," Loki thought aloud. "You'd end up with assassination attempts on both of us from the various factions supporting the other's right to rule." Thor wouldn't listen to Loki. Not in public. There was no way Loki's position would be anything but ceremonial. Or worse: the pile of late paperwork on Thor's desk could become Loki's life. "Eventually that position will be taken up by the next Queen, in any case."

"Not all women are suitable to serve as regent," Father argued. Loki sat back in his chair. Given the quality of the women Thor spent his time with that was a more than fair statement. "Asgard's King is the anchor for her magic, and will always need the Sleep to recover from the strain. When I am gone, and Thor needs to Sleep, your brother will need you."

"You would have us rule like Ville and Ve did?" Loki asked. Father's expression darkened a little at the mention of his elder brothers. Ville and Ve had actively shared the crown for a short time between Odin and Bor while Odin was away at war, and sat beside one another on the throne. There had been some unfortunate rumors about which was the 'Queen' from that.

"Not as they did, but with a similar support of one another," he hedged. This was just a consolation prize, and not a well thought out one.

"I will still need to set up my own house and life," Loki explained, his face a blank mask of calm as he sat casually in his chair, eyes on his plate and mind a tangle of conflicting opinions. He respected Tyr and Njor with good reason, and Odaric was unbiased aside from his peculiar cultural slant viewing Loki as still mostly a child. Even mother was helping him leave even as she asked him to try and reconcile. "What difference does it make if I do it now or later? In any case I have a good reason to want to leave right now. I meant what I said to you when we last spoke. It is my love of Asgard and Mother that keeps me close, and if you think I said what I did only in a fit of anger then you have now heard it spoken of calmly and can relieve yourself of that false notion." Loki sat straighter in his chair and met his father's angry gaze.

"This revelation of your plan for my future only proves my point," Loki accused. "You do not treat me as a son, you have not since I had my coming out party, and I am done with enduring it without complaint. You could have spoken to me of this before, if this is what you always intended me to do with the rest of my life. You didn't. You waited until I had sorted out something on my own and refuse to be honest with me about why you disapprove so completely of everything I do. You now pretend to correct me for intentionally ruining a plan I didn't know existed. Well, I don't accept it, and furthermore I don't believe the idea to name me Thor's vizier occurred to you before you woke this morning."

"Brother, don't you want to work with me in the court?" Thor asked.

"I'm being bribed," Loki pointed out. He pushed away from the table and stood. "It has put me off my food."

"Stay," Odin commanded. Loki blinked once and turned himself into a dog, his fine clothing falling into a heap except for his shirt. He stood stone still in the appropriate pose for a trained hound. "Loki, this is no time for foolishness." Loki barked at him, and growled viciously when Odin stood, but did not move from his place.

"Odin, Loki, stop it," Mother demanded. Loki padded over to her chair and laid down beside it. He was quite a big dog, with wide feet suited for soft earth. A glance behind himself revealed a gently curved tail, and he was black everywhere he could see. Mother pat his head and his tail wagged independently of his other emotions. "Loki, change back."

Loki walked over to the pile of clothing he'd left behind and tried to bark softly, but what came out was an irritating whining sound. He picked up his underwear and dropped them on the top of the pile. His point made well enough, he walked to the door. After a bit of fiddling he continued to ignore the protests behind him and scratched at the gilded wood. A curious guard opened the door and he darted out. He had better luck with his own door as the enchantments on it still recognized him. Loki curled up on his bed, still as a dog, and stayed there until he fell asleep.


	12. Thursday Starts Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a terrible morning, but the afternoon makes up for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _WARNING:_ Contains some body horror. If you are very squeamish you can get the basic idea from the dialogue.

Dogs can sleep quite deeply and comfortably even when wearing a shirt, and Loki was well-rested when he woke. His servants had brought him both his regular breakfast and a bowl of fresh meat on the floor. He stood a moment, hair still wet from the bath, staring at the bowl. He shifted blue and picked up the strip of well-marbled meat. It tasted bland without any seasoning, and he kept his mind busy with the dilemma of what was the greater blasphemy: to eat as a dog or to eat as a Jotun. He laughed at himself, taking up another strip and frosting it over before taking a bite. The cold shell's crunch gave the bland food a bit of texture. The raven on his windowsill would relay the spectacle to Odin. He welcomed the fallout.

The door opened suddenly and Mother yelped. He hadn't been able to set the wards properly as a dog and hadn't thought of it this morning. She shut the door and rushed forward.

"No, no, it's fine. I'm fine. How did you get raw meat? No, stay as you are. Just relax," she babbled, moving the bowl from the floor to the side table.

"They likely brought it for the dog," Loki explained. Eating that had been stupid. "I should… I should vomit."

"Do you feel ill?" she gushed.

"No, but I should change back and I'm not sure if I would be ill after with that in my stomach," Loki explained.

"Then stay like this. Just stay like this a little while," Mother fretted over him, fluttering her hands along his arms.

"I have to go meet with Sigfried today," Loki huffed.

"Wait an hour," she urged. "Just wait and rest. Are you still hungry?" Her voice wavered slightly.

"I should eat a bit more, but I was just… it was silly. I was being silly," Loki insisted. He took some of the sliced fruit from the tray. The citrus was amazing.

"Is that alright? You could have more of the other," she suggested. Loki shook his head and grabbed a slice of apple.

"No, this is wonderful," Loki admitted, amazed. "It tastes so much better!" He tried the bacon, and promptly spit it out. He coughed and washed the taste away with water. "Well, if this turns the flavor of bacon into charcoal and rot then I am not convinced it is worth the way it makes apples taste."

"Eat more fruit, then," she urged. He did, and even took another strip of raw meat at her insistence. It was weird, but Odin would have kittens if he saw and that was more to the point. Mother certainly seemed eager to let him have his rebellion. When he was full he stretched, letting himself feel the difference in his body. There was a great abundance of ambient magic in the palace, and he stretched out a little with his magic to feel it. It was soaking into his skin wonderfully, and he sighed contentedly as his seidr licked eagerly at the ambient energy.

"I love you, Mother," he told her gently. "I'm a little kid like this, barely chest-high. If I want to have a fit or beg Modi to make it better then it's not weird, because I'm a little kid." Just using the old poorly-pronounced word for mother he used to use was a slap in Odin's face. He couldn't even remember what he'd called the man before he could say 'father' reliably. Maybe he simply hadn't called for him. It was a vicious thought, and turning it over in his mind made him feel better.

"If you are so young then I can't let you move out," Mother argued.

"If you love me so much then you can't let me stay," Loki countered. "I need this. I need to be a changeling, to shift from one form to the next. I can't tell you how much better I feel this morning - physically - after having spent the night in another skin. He hates this. He hates it so much he'd rather see me sick for the rest of my life then let me be myself. As for my feminine parts, this sort of body is the perfect answer, isn't it? I'm not male, I'm not female, I'm both at the same time. I just have to read a bit more about the other inter-people and pick one that looks less horrific."

"You do not look horrific," Mother scolded. "You look perfectly handsome."

"You can't be serious," Loki wondered.

"It's the same face," she scoffed. "You are hardly changed at all, aside from the color and the… the markings."

"If I must wait like this an hour I have to strip off this tunic," Loki grumbled.

"I changed your diapers, I think I'll manage to contain myself at the sight of your bare chest," she joked. Loki pulled off the shirt, glad he was still barefoot or he'd have ruined his socks. He put his vest back on over the soft summer trousers. Mother just smiled approvingly. He upgraded the situation from weird to bizarre.

"This doesn't bother you at all?" Loki asked.

"Not the smallest bit."

"Why?"

"You are my child, you love me, you are well, and we are together," she answered simply. "It is no different than seeing you in a female body."

"I'll find a form that I can walk down the street in without causing a riot," Loki reworded. "I think most of Asgard would attack me first and ask questions later." The feeling of the ambient magic pouring into him was rapidly becoming distracting. Like purposefully directing his breathing, now that he had started to mark it he couldn't easily ignore it. It had momentum gathering, like a ball rolling downhill.

"You could do this in private, and take animal forms when you are out. No one will look too closely at what gender of horse or dog you become," she suggested.

"What if I get stuck in a form that can't talk?" Loki asked rhetorically. "Oh, this is so… Do you remember how elementals absorb ambient magic the way plants absorb light? I think I must know what a daisy feels like when it's pot is moved from a dim corner to a bright garden." He settled a hand on his chest and felt his icy heart beating rapidly. "I'm like a dry sponge."

"Are you in pain?" she asked, reaching out to his chest to lace her fingers between his. He had no doubt she could feel the rapid beating beneath her fingertips.

"No, it's… deeply satisfying," he finished lamely. He started to fidget, the pleasant feeling running through him growing powerful. "Don't touch me just now."

"Why?" she asked politely, withdrawing her hand with reluctance.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to contain it properly. I have the urge to ice over the walls. It's some stray thought because the weather feels too warm. I've had similar thoughts during the worst heat waves before, but now I have the ability to actually do it," Loki thought aloud. He picked up his water glass and frosted it. He carefully shaped the ice crystals into flowers, and his mother cooed over it. "I've always had a deep well of power to draw from. In this body, I can easily harness the raw magic in the air as well in a way I cannot in my usual form."

"You seem perfectly in control," Mother assured him with a gesture to the melting frost on his glass.

"I feel odd," Loki admitted with some concern. He tried to steel himself against the magic drifting into him, but his body was still greedily soaking it up.

"You are sucking the ambient energy out of the room rapidly," she observed. "Are you just storing it?"

"No, I'm using it," Loki admitted. "I'm not sure exactly how, but I'm putting it to internal use." He tried to cast a medical charm, but the result was a mess of biology he didn't properly understand.

"You probably need this," Mother suggested, peering at the scan and poking him a bit with her own magic. "Stay calm and take deep breaths."

"I'm hot," Loki complained and stripped down to his shorts. "That has to be what it is, I'm too hot and I'm trying to cool down."

"Make a block of ice to lay on," she suggested. Loki tried but ended up with a badly-shaped thing. He climbed onto it anyway.

"It's as effective as holding a flame in my hand for warmth," he huffed and stood. The block shattered and evaporated into nothing as soon as he stopped trying to maintain it. He padded into his bathroom and hopped into the empty tub, turning on only the cold tap. That was better, but he was still hot.

"I could have someone fetch you some ice," Mother worried. He wondered that she hadn't suggested the obvious thing and asked him to change back to Aesir.

"No, this is nice," he protested. The feeling was still strong, but he felt a little calmer now that he was in the tub. He didn't plug the drain for fear of freezing any still water and bursting the plumbing. He peeked over the edge. "I think it has more to do with being in a more enclosed space, though."

"Do you feel unsafe?"

"Not exactly, just nervous beyond reason. Don't leave. I don't want you to leave me alone," Loki explained badly. "I actually feel quite good, physically, but a bit overwhelmed. Like I've been given too much of a stimulant."

"Then take even breaths and stay calm. Let your magic do as it needs to for now. It is not doing you any harm that I can see," Mother suggested, sitting on a chair that he rarely used by the vanity. For a long while, he sat in the tub in his shorts and cool water.

"It has the feel of healing magic," Loki said at length. She nodded in agreement. "Not like healing a wound, but something deep. I - AH!" Loki gasped as something moved with purpose within his lower gut. Mother was at his side as he clutched at himself just below his belly button. He panted and felt something wriggle inside him. The water started turning blue.

"Are you bleeding?" Mother asked worriedly.

"No," Loki moaned. Mother took that as the protest against fate that it was instead of a proper answer. She stripped off his last scrap of clothing. They both watched curiously as the slitted shell between his legs withered and thinned. Mother had the grace to look away when it stabilized.

"I rather wish you weren't here for this," Loki commented when he had his breath back. He could feel his internal organs shifting about, and it was not a comfortable process.

"Talk to me, slowly," she encouraged. "Take your time. You asked me not to leave."

"I don't want to be alone, but I also feel utterly mortified," Loki spoke evenly.

"It could be worse. You could have the company of a maiden," she teased. Loki shrugged and took the distraction.

"I know what I told Father before, but that was said for his sake. Truly, I'm decidedly without an opinion on the gender or type of company I want," he admitted. It was a far less awkward topic of conversation than the transformation he was undergoing. His body was still sucking in magic rapidly. The Jotun librarians told him blooming was meant to take a week or two, and it couldn't have been more than half an hour since his mother arrived. Then again, he hadn't actually lost the protective covering on his genitalia, so it might not be that at all.

"You are also currently without gender," she pointed out. "Would that not have an effect on your instinctive responses?"

"I disagree. I currently have two genders, not none, and even when I don't I just don't care all that much. Good company of any kind is better than none," Loki admitted. Something caught, and a muscle spasm cramped up his abdomen. "Eir said my development as an Aesir woman was stunted?"

"Yes, she did," his mother confirmed. "There are ways to encourage the body to develop properly, but they are generally traumatic. That is why we wanted you to go through it naturally."

"I think maybe Jotun children can make up for lost time given good food, rest, and abundant magic," Loki hypothesized. "I'd have to ask a healer specialized in Jotun biology to confirm that, though, and I doubt there are any to hand."

"No, there aren't," Mother said thoughtfully. "We could have a walk down to the weapon's vault and you could rest a hand on the Casket of Ancient Winters."

"Ugh, this is already happening far faster than is comfortable. My internal organs are dancing about," Loki moaned.

"So long as you are not in pain, and as long as it feels healthful overall, I want you to endure it," Mother encouraged. Loki reached out of the tub and caught her hand. He held onto her for comfort for a while in silence. A particularly strong pulse caught him, and he shifted in the tub trying to gauge if he was getting taller too. He didn't think so.

"I thought I was too young for this. The books said eleven centuries was adulthood, and that the growth spurt after this 'blooming' takes only a couple decades," Loki complained. "I should be a century too young for this at least."

"Perhaps you are an early bloomer," Mother suggested.

"I am in no mood for bad puns," Loki snapped.

"True, physically you were always a little late to develop, but you still stood shoulder to shoulder with Thor for much of your childhood. It is possible you are hitting this mark early because of switching species and the previous suppression of your nature," Mother soothed. Loki took his hand back and blew out a huge sigh. Cautiously, aware that his mother was right there even if she was politely engrossed in the far wall, he attempted to adjust himself through what was now a soft shell of skin with no solid substance. It was a bit like touching an earlobe. Something shifted, and then the cramping abruptly ceased.

"Oh, mercy, I think that's the end of it," Loki moaned. He was exhausted from the ordeal. At least it was over now. The now flimsy shell that covered his more familiar (if blue and embarrassingly small) male appendage could be parted enough to see he didn't have external testicles, but he'd seen enough naked adult Jotnar to know that was normal. When Mother looked away he checked himself more thoroughly. He was uncomfortably tender and he had what he was sure was a cunt hidden behind the other parts. That seemed in line with the general theory. "I'm done. I'm never taking this shape again."

"Loki, don't be unreasonable," Mother chastised. He gaped at her.

"I just had to shit out my dick as a fucking coming of age transformation from child to adolescence!" He slapped a hand over his mouth, more appalled at his language than Mother was if her laugh was anything to go by.

"Just imagine if you'd turned yourself into a caterpillar," she teased. "It's just the timing, and look on the bright side. This could be a very good thing. You said from the beginning it felt like self-healing, and you did have damage from the geas being left on you for so long. You should test out other forms, perhaps High Alf or some other physically similar species. You might benefit from the different shapes."

"Maybe, but if not then that is the end of this line of curiosity," he pouted. He wanted company, badly. The safety of the tub was now claustrophobic. He rinsed himself off carefully. Then, Loki hugged his legs to himself and changed back into his proper skin. He expected the desire to find someone to cuddle to fade, but it remained. "If you don't mind."

"I'll be in your front room," she assured.

Loki doused himself in cold water until he felt clean and got dressed again. The need to cuddle someone was still bubbling under his skin, and it horrified him. He'd changed, properly and completely. The abbreviated medical scan he cast came up clean. It should be gone now, but it wasn't. What did that mean for his other instincts? For the excuses he'd given over his reactions on Jotunheim? Was it just a cumulative thing? Why had he had the sudden urge to change into a Jotun this morning anyway? It seemed too convenient. He didn't believe in coincidences on that level, and the last time he'd had such an irrational urge his needy changeling body had also been ready for some form of maintenance.

"I have to go to Eldred Hall," Loki said when he finally made it back to his front room. "Sigfried will be waiting."

"I'll go with you if you like," Mother offered.

"No, no that's fine," Loki assured tiredly. "I just need to approve the start of the job, really. A quick look at the blueprints and I might make it back for a late lunch."

"I don't have anything pressing to do either," Mother assured.

"Mother, I mean this in the kindest way, but I'm not in need of your company just now. Thank you for staying with me through whatever that was, but now that it is over I want it put out of mind swiftly," Loki soothed.

"When you come home, it is straight to the healing rooms," she ordered.

"Yes, Mother," Loki promised.

* * *

 

Loki made quick work of his appointment with Sigfried. He mentioned that he would be headed to the healing wing later for trouble with his stomach as soon as he got to Eldred Hall and the servants in earshot made sure he had a pot of hot tea at the ready despite the lack of a functional kitchen. Sigfried didn't waste any time in pointing out where the damage to the house was more extensive than Loki had first assumed and laid out a timetable that was tight, but still acceptable. He would have a functional master suite, front room, quarters for two servants, and kitchen in time for the festival. Sigfried also had some suggestions on how the order of the renovations could be altered to be more efficient, but he handed those off as a written list and Loki rode home to lick his wounds before midday.

Grandmaster Tyr caught Loki's attention when he passed by the man's home. Sif was with him, so Loki viewed the decorative fence separating the road from the Grandmaster's property with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. He signaled and dismounted close enough to the gate that a palace servant took his horse. Tyr beaconed him over eagerly; Loki responded at a sluggish pace as he walked away from the palace gate. Tyr's warm greeting melted into concern and they met at the low fence nearest the palace's outer wall. Loki leaned on it to make a good show.

"I'm afraid you caught me on the way to the healing rooms, Grandmaster," Loki greeted.

"Not a serious injury, I hope," Tyr answered.

"No, Sir, just a bit of backlash over a transformation. I fell asleep in a different skin last night, which was about as helpful as not," Loki shrugged mysteriously.

"That's not right," Tyr muttered.

"Where were you that you had to change your skin?" Sif asked.

"In the Royal Apartments," Loki supplied as if he wouldn't have been any other place, "and I did not have to do anything."

"That is a bother," Tyr grumbled on Loki's behalf. "It should be as simple and easy as moving a leg."

"A leg that was broken, bound up wrongly, and left unused for ages," Loki admitted softly, wary of being overheard even here. "I can pick the time and place I do it until I am well again. I was a dog, quite happily curled up on my bed covers. I felt better in the morning, but breakfast was a bit of a wobble."

"I suppose that's all that can be done for it," Tyr sighed. "I was going to ask if you'd join us for lunch."

"I told Mother I would see a healer when I returned home from going over the blueprints for Eldred Hall, to sooth her nerves," Loki apologized. "I'm really just a bit tired and hungry, nothing more."

"Then come in and rest over lunch with us, you are old enough to know if you need a healer," Tyr suggested. Sif looked at him sharply.

"If he made a promise to the Queen he should keep it," she pointed out.

"Nonsense, he is no little boy who can't judge a wound's severity. Anyway, he hasn't actually come home yet so his promise is unbroken. A bit of rest and good food will do him all the good he needs," the Grandmaster blustered. Loki considered walking around to the front door for a moment, but then he hopped the low fence. "You're not in sad shape, then?"

"Would you mind having a Vanir Prince dine with you?" Loki asked quietly.

"Should you push yourself that hard?" Tyr asked with a similar hush.

"I'm Vanir now," Loki admitted. "My skin is precisely half a shade fairer, and my internal organs are slightly altered in their placement."

"Is that so?" Tyr marveled. "I wouldn't have known."

"It makes for good practice during the day without being noticeable. I don't think it uses any less magic, for all that the change is a subtle one," Loki supposed. "Since the change is always to the bone, maintaining one form isn't actually strenuous. I'm only doing something when I'm changing." Tyr nodded as if he knew all this already. Sif was looking back and forth between them curiously.

Lady Zisa Tyrswife started feeding him as soon as he crossed the threshold again, the cup of warm honeyed milk soothing him with memories of cozy nights. Lunch wasn't anything special, but the welcome was warm enough. Sif's parents had died while she was small, one as a soldier and the other to illness. She'd been raised here at the gates of the palace, wanting for very little as the favored grandchild of a decorated war hero amid her young aunts and uncles, then later her baby cousins. Despite this, the Grandmaster and his wife were too happy to have his company for him to feel like an outsider at the otherwise cozy family lunch.

Loki ate slowly, the repulsive tingle that still lingered under his skin bugging him. He wondered if he misjudged the situation. He'd thought the Grandmaster had something important to say, but it was just idle chatter about the work on his house and the state of the latest batch of conscripts. Lady Tyrswife lamented that her children had taken all her other grand-babies away from her for a while as if they didn't have lessons to attend. He caught Sif looking at him and the tingle intensified. He did his honest best at ignoring it.

"You must be more unwell than you said," Tyr accused. "I haven't seen you so quiet in years."

"I will be fine," he assured, his voice quiet and subdued. "I have changed from Vanir to Aesir four times since I sat down, and it does require a bit of attention. Not that I have been ignoring you, but I need the practice as much as anything else."

"Don't overwork yourself," Lady Zisa insisted.

"I'm not," he assured. "I was able to rest well enough while I rode. If I do myself any harm here I know you would have me in the healing wing before the request finished ringing in the air." He held up a hand to his right, changing species as he brought it across to his left. "It is a subtle thing, isn't it?" he asked as he brought his hand across the other way and slipped back into Aesir skin.

"You can see it in the eyes," Lady Zisa pointed out. "They are a sharp leaf green as Aesir and a much softer blue-green as Vanir." Loki smiled brightly.

"I am very grateful that you take this so gracefully," Loki thanked them without reservation.

"If Odin can't pull his head out of his ass long enough to notice that you are neither a fire demon nor a lizard in your day to day life, then he can take his small-minded prejudices and…"

"Husband!" Lady Zisa scolded. Loki whipped his head around, checking the windows for ravens.

"Please, Grandmaster, take some care lest that carry to other ears," Loki worried.

"It needs said," the man insisted, banging the table for emphasis. "Often and by enough people that the man will mark his own wife's scolding for once. There is nothing wrong with your gift. There was nothing wrong with it when Sif carried you home as a puppy and demanded we adopt you, either. You weren't old enough then to understand that the benefits of walking on four legs weren't worth not being able to talk."

"I did what?" Sif asked despite herself.

"You came up to me one day carrying this floppy black puppy," Lady Zisa cooed. "He looked barely old enough to leave his mother, the paws and ears much too large for the rest of him. It took a good couple of hours before I caught him changing back into a boy to grab at a muffin. You cried for hours when I told you that you couldn't keep him." Tyr chuckled a bit at that. "It was adorable, really," she continued. "He'd turn up every so often. Prince Loki was still toddling, but he figured out the trick of changing from a boy to a snake. Then he'd slither under the doors and into your room to change into a puppy, and we'd hear your squeal of delight. You called him Coal and insisted that it couldn't be the Prince because being a Prince was infinitely better than being a puppy. The only real concern was that he always left his clothes behind, and you were different enough in age that it was time to start thinking of such things even if he was much too young to care."

"Clothing is a major limitation of the change," Loki confirmed.

"The three of you had always gone about in a line: Sif following Prince Thor and Prince Loki following the pair of you," Tyr sighed. "I remember vaguely mentioning that it was a shame you didn't visit so often, and that Sif missed her younger playmate, but by then Sif had decided she was going to be a warrior. I didn't mark it as terribly strange that she was suddenly not an acceptable playmate for the sons of the King, and considered that Odin had relented when she was again included in your games." Sif's face was twisted in concentration. Loki wondered idly if she had magic cast on her to put his ability out of mind as well.

"As I recall, she took the lack of Coal quite personally and blamed you," the Lady chimed in.

"That, I remember for myself," Loki assured. "Though I never understood before now why she insisted I'd stolen her dog when I never had one that matched the description."

"Well, that was how it went," Tyr said nostalgically. Loki considered himself and the lingering tingle of instinct that itched him for a moment.

"I'll just use your washroom a moment," Loki excused himself. Once inside he neatly removed and folded his elaborate clothes before shrinking down. The world looked very different through a snake's eyes and it took a moment before he oriented himself. The squeeze under the door was tight, the meal in his middle causing a bit of panic. He had just about gotten through when Tyr walked into the hallway and burst into laughter.

"A bit bigger than you were so many centuries ago, lad?" he laughed loudly. His wife and granddaughter appeared behind him and he mercifully managed to free himself. He coiled on the floor, the lump in his middle quite obvious.

"At least I know you ate enough lunch today," Lady Zisa cooed. Loki turned into a dog then. He hadn't realized just how big he'd been last night, but the small hallway made it clear. He was practically a dire wolf. The Lady stepped forward and smoothed her hand over his head. The tingle under his skin relented as she pet him. His snout must be quite long, and he thought he could feel that his ears filled her hand when she pet them.

"Coal?" Sif said softly. He could see a spark of recognition in her eyes and barked. She bent down to his level and he trotted over. He pushed into her hand, aware that his tail was wagging enough to thump the wall and not caring. Tyr and his wife made a quiet exit. Loki encouraged Sif to keep petting him in every way he knew. He gave her needy looks and keened and brushed against her with his flank whenever she pulled back. It was heavenly, and before long he fell on his side with a thump onto her folded legs, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he grinned and panted like the big happy dog he was.

"How could I have forgotten?" Sif asked herself. Loki sat up enough to lick her face and she laughed and tousled the long hair on his head. He was a great shaggy thing, a bit too fluffy for the late summer heat. She wrapped an arm around him and the last of the tingly itch in his skin melted into joy. He licked her again and she suddenly went rigid. "Did you just kiss me?"

Loki felt his eyes go round and he yipped, but the worried sound didn't convey half of what he needed to be explaining right now. He bounded for the door and changed into a snake again, urgently fighting to get under the door. Sif opened it for him and he slid uncomfortably along the wooden floor with it. He made a mad noodly scramble for his clothes and she shut the door, his last glimpse of her face showing extreme irritation.

"I was a dog," he said while he pulled his trousers on. "They have a very limited means of communication and a rather specific set of instincts. You gave me a friendly shoulder rub and I thanked you." He pulled the door open while he was still hopping into his shoe, the majority of the layers of clothing he wore still folded on the counter. The simple undershirt and trousers was modesty enough given the urgency with which he needed to see her reaction. "I think I may know why you forgot, but you may have to guard the knowledge or it could endanger lives."

"You will explain that, now," she demanded.

"You could have an enchantment on you, or you could have been an easily distracted child. Do I have permission to check?" Loki asked.

"Yes," she allowed cautiously. Loki reached out to touch both sides of her head, gently checking her for the subtle thread of magic. As powerful as Odin's magic was, it was often very minimalist. Part of its strength came from a lack of complexity making loose ends hard to find and unravel. He found it, the simplicity of the spell holding strong despite its age.

"You are enchanted to think infrequently of my magical abilities, and dismiss them when you do," he confirmed, pulling his hands back politely. That was a little broader a scope than he'd expected to have to combat.

"Take it off," she permitted, her tone softer than the word choice.

"I don't possess the skill required," Loki apologized. "If I tell you who put it there, you will have to keep the secret all of your days. I can take you to Eir and see if she can remove it, but in that case you would also know who was responsible."

"I would rather know, and better still have it off me," she assured.

"My Father did it," Loki admitted.

"That doesn't," she trailed off.

"He doesn't like changelings much, as the Grandmaster said. You must be careful with this knowledge, Sif. Please think long and hard before you mention it to anyone. I have not trusted Thor with everything yet, if only from the fear that if he finds it all out at once he will say something incautious in anger and bring greater wrath down on me. I broke the geas Father put on me, and he wasn't pleased. Call me a coward if you like, but it nearly killed me and I've only just gotten my breath back. I am not fit for another fight," Loki begged. "I am running from the palace as soon as I am physically able."

"You are moving to Eldred Hall out of fear of your father?" she questioned, bewildered by the concept. Loki gave her a long evaluating look. If he was to get her to court him, as this whole situation was clearly engineered to promote, then it might help if he treated her as a confidant. She wasn't stupid, either, and it might be good to have her properly involved given that Tyr was showing him such kindness and support. When she started to look irritated by his silence he sighed.

"I don't know," he answered earnestly. "Maybe I have nothing to fear, but maybe I do. Mother has tried getting us to talk, but I haven't spoken to him regularly for years. It seems all we know how to do is shout at one another. I don't know what my position is anymore. I remember when father used to speak to Thor and I, saying we were both born to be kings and teaching us together of all the wisdom a highborn man needs to have. I am not sure when he decided that this defect of my birth disqualified me from deserving his attention. He might just be too busy to spend time with both of us separately, and when he chose Thor to succeed him that was the end of his concern for me."

"Thor only speaks with him privately a few times a week," Sif argued.

"I see him privately once a month," Loki sighed, heart heavy at the confirmation. "Often less."

"You go to the court every day. Isn't he there with you?" Sif asked.

"You have stood watch in the Throne Room," Loki scoffed at the idea. "How much personal conversation does it entail? And no, before you ask, I am not invited to talk to him after the Court adjourns."

"I didn't know," Sif admitted. "It looks as if all is well."

"I have done my best so that it isn't obvious. The uncomfortable truth is that spare heirs to the throne have a very short life expectancy if they lose the protection of the crown. I'm hoping I can establish myself as no threat to anyone's ambitions, and therefore not worth assassinating," Loki said with a broken smile. "There is an ax hanging over my head, ready to fall the second I am deemed a threat. I have to get rid of it if I am to live long enough to reach any of my long-term goals."

"You don't imagine he'd have you killed?" Sif asked.

"I spoke about the factions for and against Thor's rule the other day. What do you imagine they will try to do to us, ask one of us politely to step aside for the other?" Loki asked sarcastically, leaning against the door frame.

"Does Thor know?"

"I told him of the factions, as you know, and a few other details in private. He knows I am angry about my unequal treatment, but he doesn't think I have good reason for it. He could figure it out himself if he spent an hour thinking on the subject, but like I said before I'm not sure I want him to figure it all out before I leave," Loki said. He fidgeted with his hands. "I'm not well liked among the peerage, but the common people seem to like me a little too well. It's a dangerous combination. That is why I wanted the tour of the realm for myself. It gives me opportunity to personally tell every Jarl and Thane that Thor will be the next king, and that I could not be more pleased by that." Loki let Sif think that through for a moment.

"He put an enchantment on me, to make me forget that you were a changeling," Sif growled, conflicted. "That is a violation of my rights, except he is my King. Why was this done?"

"As king, he had the right to do it to protect a secret of the crown. Then again, we must wonder: What secret? I haven't been going out of my way to keep my ability quiet, but I haven't been flaunting it either. He hasn't specifically told me to stay silent, but Mother is prevented from talking of it much by her vows so strictly that she has had a hard time giving me advice on how to care for myself and must rely on Eir to speak for her at times," Loki shrugged. "His exact motivations and thoughts are a mystery to me, despite having asked him directly. I am keeping open discussions of what I am to those who already know it and letting the rumors spread it as they will. In more favorable news, this is exactly the sort of battle I am best equipped for. I expect to do well in the long game, even if I must creep about in shadow for a little while."

"Once Thor is on the throne it will be better," Sif encouraged. "He loves you as his brother and will suffer no attack against you."

"Even that is more complicated than I wish it was. Odin tried to bribe me last night. He invented some story about having _always_ planned for me to be Thor's vizier," Loki admitted, twisting his tone into sarcastic criticism. "Had that been true he would have mentioned it long before now, and I think it was just bait to keep me close while I am angry about the spells he put on me. If Thor wants me in that place, then I might take it at some later time, after he is settled in his power, but you know well how quick he is to dismiss a dissenting opinion from me. How many times have I begged for a bit of sensible caution, and then later had to conjure smoke to mask our retreat when I was ignored?"

"You do favor a more cowardly approach," Sif scalded him with her disdain.

"I do not like to enter battle blind. My strength is in tactics, and a good tactician wins the battle before it begins," Loki defended. "Also, you are still enchanted, and the spell is aimed at _all_ of my magical talents. Take a moment and put some actual effort into thinking past it before you ignore how much magic I have used to save his life when he arrogantly picks fights he can't win. If you can't, then think of the times I was not there and his only saving grace was your Uncle opening the Bifrost for him." Sif's eyebrows leapt in surprise.

"Caution would make you a good vizier," Sif admitted. "That is traditionally a scholar's position, isn't it?"

"Yes. Mother holds that post now, even if she is limited as a war bride in how openly she can disagree with him," Loki said. "It keeps the arguments private, giving the illusion of perfect unity. An illusion I fear my brother takes for fact too often, and one I would not be able to maintain out of self-respect."

"You would eventually be replaced, then, by Thor's queen."

"I think the expectation is that you would fall into that place," Loki gambled on the admission, his words coming out in a reluctant mumble. Sif preened, and Loki squashed her pleasure viciously. "Don't be flattered, there is no praise in how he thinks of you on that front. He believes you incapable of questioning Thor's actions no matter how outlandish, though it isn't so much a condemnation of you as it is a slander of my brother's taste. Father doesn't think any woman that would please Thor would also be suitable as regent. He said that the position will always be necessary, even when we both have families. I think that is a load of manure, and even if you occasionally forget your sword arm isn't your only strength you are no simple sycophant."

"Do you think the King will try and arrange a marriage between Thor and I?" Sif asked. Loki looked away from her and blinked a few times.

"I said my piece on that the other day," Loki replied quietly.

"That is no answer," Sif accused. "Neither was the cryptic message you gave me before."

"Thor wants a beautiful woman who will patiently wait on him and do all the nice things a wife should: dress finely, speak softly, _obey him_ , and basically replace our Mother. He respects your accomplishments and you are his friend, he will not expect you to give up anything in your life for a man. Therefore, he expects you should never want marriage from anyone," Loki laid out in a cutting tone. "He does not notice when you dress well, or consider that you would make a good wife to a man willing to set aside his own dominance. You deserve someone who will not tie you down unnecessarily."

"Like you?" Sif scoffed.

"I thought you might enjoy a house husband. Some Thane tied to his land or artisan to his craft," Loki mumbled a bit, tensing his shoulders uncomfortably. "It depends on your opinion of children generally, and if you would like the freedom to return to the army soon after the birth of them or retire until they are old enough to be apprenticed, if not permanently."

"I never thought so far ahead," Sif admitted. "I never considered being forced to retire to care for a child, but if am wed then I would have a duty to fulfill."

"I think you have inspired a number of young girls to stand strong and not compromise over what they want out of life. Perhaps you should take after your own teachings and choose your next goal now that you have achieved your primary aspiration, rather than just let the flow of life take you down the path of least resistance. You would make a powerful role model, to any child," Loki spoke softly, head down and looking at her from the corner of his eye. Sif stared at him a moment, then her jaw dropped as the scope of the compliment hit her. He didn't give her the time to construct a response.

"One path I have for making it through all this alive is to build a family sooner rather than later and be just so very busy with my new household that becoming the instrument of a coup is unthinkable," Loki rushed out. "You know how I can shut myself in my library or my workshop, and… and maybe you could accompany me through the market and see how common people of Gladsheim react to me. There is good reason the common people have come to look at me favorably, not that that was my aim at the time. I was just having fun and doing as I pleased. When the reports came back detailing why the common people think I am so well-suited to be the All-Father it took me an hour of careful thought to realize my informants were not having a joke at my expense."

"You aren't after a couple stolen kisses," Sif said when he let her get a word in edgewise.

"I'd take them, if they are on offer," Loki shrugged. Her astonished face crunched into anger. "The thing you most criticize me for is dishonesty, so don't be hypocritical when I choose to speak clearly and from the heart. I might have mentioned instead that dogs wag their tails when they see someone they like, or some other cryptic thing that sounds like an answer yet isn't."

"I don't know what is more frightening: that my King has some irrational hate for an inborn talent and has gone so far as to use mind magic to suppress it's acceptance in the court, or that you are so scared that you've forgotten to lie about it," Sif's said, voice hollow.

"I haven't forgotten how to lie. I have _chosen_ to trust you with the truth. There are not a lot of people I trust with the full spectrum of my thoughts. I wouldn't speak of half of this were I not standing in a washroom with no windows in a home your Uncle, who I won't name lest I catch his attention despite his honor being too great to look into washrooms, is unlikely to spy on without prompting," Loki pointed out. Sif looked down at his feet on the tiled floor beyond the wooden threshold as if she'd forgotten where they were having this conversation. "There are so many ways to be overheard in this realm, but I can be reasonably sure we are speaking privately, and I want to trust you. I have admired you for a long time. I thought you had noticed before, but sometimes I forget just how good I am at keeping things to myself. From my perspective it felt like I was being fairly obvious about it, and was ignored only because I wasn't Thor."

"I will have to think about it," Sif said. "Let's go to the healing wing together, so you can keep your promise and I can have this spell removed. I can't make a reliable decision while my thoughts are altered." Loki reached out and took her hand, very slowly bringing it up so he could kiss the back of it in case she wanted to pull it away. She let him, and he smiled at her brightly.

"It is that sort of direct practicality I like most about you," he told her. "Just give me a moment here. I wouldn't want to return in a drastically different state of dress with a pretty woman on my arm." He closed the door on her squawked demand that he not miss a single button.


	13. Friday, Party Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki hosts an impromptu dinner party.

The court session on Friday was the briefest, as it wasn't properly a work day at all for the nobility. They made plans for what issues would be first on the schedule for next week and packed up quickly to clear their respective desks for the weekend. None of them would have any official work left by eleven other than the never-ending dance of political favors. Loki wondered if Thor had ever been to court on a normal Friday. He might have protested Loki's suggestion on how to break up the week between them if he had. Well, if Thor came at him accusing him of manipulation he could easily deflate the argument. He'd only suggested the days. Thor could have asked for different ones instead of agreeing immediately.

"Is there any other business before the court?" the King asked the well-rehearsed question. No one spoke. "Then this court is dismissed by the will of the All-Father until our next gathering." The Throne Room was instantly filled with noise as scrolls were gathered into bags and well-mannered people avoided bumping one another as they vacated the risers. The semicircle of seating would soon flatten into the floor, their design similar to the traditional amphitheaters used throughout the realm as meeting places. Loki thought it could be made more comfortable, but the tiered shape and hard surfaces made even soft voices carry to the throne. There was a shallow natural bowl in a nearly level area halfway down the gentle hill Eldred Hall stood on. It would make a better location for a bonfire the next time he had to speak to the people of his hold; it was a shame it was so overgrown.

While walking back to his chambers to clear his desk Loki decided that would be his next project. It was not just a perfect place for him to use to meet with his people, it would also be good for other semi-official business. Living in his hold would mean that he would be available to officiate over marriages and other incidental matters as they came up. So long as the overgrowth wasn't disguising some malformation of the earth beneath, it wouldn't be much trouble to keep a neat lawn there. While the Hall was being made livable he'd spend time on that, and it would keep him close by in case anyone needed him. It had been a little while since he'd worked spells into stone, and the traditional warding and blessing of such a place would be a nice side project to set up over the next few months.

He drank a potion before lunch. As far as he was aware it was originally designed to combat malnutrition, which he certainly didn't have, but Eir had insisted. Yesterday's visit to the healer's domain had mixed results. The spell on Sif took two hours to loosen and they left her sitting dazed in the grip of the scrubbing spell while Eir took Loki aside. She had him cycle through different forms, checking his health as each with the aid of a couple specialist assistants. She then made him linger as a Jotun and talked of their powerful regenerative capacity. They could regrow whole limbs given enough time, so being in that skin occasionally could be the best thing for him until all the effects of the geas were gone. The tradeoff was that Jotun skin scarred much more easily, but blinking between various shapes would give him lesser benefits of both while giving him the practice he lacked.

Eir told him a story to pass the time as he held onto a gem to intentionally charge his magical reserves as he slowly cycled between races. She had been brought what all reason dictated was the corpse of a Jotun to study during early days of the war, felled with a spear through his gut. The wound had sealed itself and the Jotun came back from the dead after a few hours, though he was weak for months and could make no ice for several days. Even his less serious wounds had been covered in vivid scarring after he'd fully recovered. Eir believed he'd been traded back for the release of Midgardian prisoners, but wasn't sure of his final fate.

Eir's final diagnosis for Loki's fit was rapid self-healing triggered by optimal environmental stimuli, and when he saw how great an effect it had on his feminine form he stopped complaining over how distasteful he found the experience. The organs were more fully developed, the internal muscles stronger, and his hormones better balanced than before he'd left on his trip. He no longer had the internal structure of a girl in her seventh century, though he hadn't quite caught up with his natural age, and the rapid development didn't seem to have any of the lingering side effects the standard hormone treatments for such a thing would have had - though a bit of caution had him drinking potions with every meal.

When the chime sounded to bring Eir back to Sif's aid Loki went with her, still holding the gem. He boldly sat in full view as Eir removed the spell, cycling between Vanir, Jotun, Aesir, Dwarf, and High Alf in a loop, the convalescent robe Eir provided him keeping up with his alterations in size. Sif stared at him for a long time after the spell was gone before asking Eir if she would aid her shield brothers if they were also enchanted. Unfortunately, Eir could only undo the All-Father's magic for her without question due to a loophole in the laws. Sif had requested the spell's removal knowingly and with Loki's permission as Prince, and even then Eir only did it because the spell was only meant to protect the Prince's privacy. Unless they wanted to go against the King's command they would have to first explain everything to the Warriors Three so they could discern if any spells cast on them were placed for reasons they could work around in similar fashion, or else get permission from the crown.

Sif and Loki disagreed on the wisdom of telling them so much of his personal business, though getting permission seemed to be understood by all to be a poor idea, and they left promising each other they would think on their respective situations. It sounded dangerously that Sif's acceptance of Loki's affection was being held hostage until he included the other three warriors in his confidence. He had gotten his hand folded in hers for a time while they were talking alone, and made it clear through his body language that that meant a great deal to him. The remainder of Thursday evening had been spent quietly going through his belongings and wishing he had stayed with Sigfried to see the man draw up the finalized plans for the first stage of construction.

When Loki finished with his lunch he drifted to the library to continue the translation work. There was only so much he could decrypt without the aid of additional sources. As scarce as the information about Jotunheim was, a young librarian found him a primer on their language tucked in a dusty corner after all the others had said there was nothing. He had the impression the dusty corner had been in her personal or family collection, and so commissioned a bracelet for her in thanks. Lady Dagny was one of the best-dressed librarians, so such a trinket would be well appreciated.

He was still carefully translating the cheap Jotun charcoal on grayish parchment onto properly bound All-tongue ink on crisp papyrus when the city bells signaled sundown. Soon after the door opened to reveal Sif and the Warriors Three, all of them dusty from the training grounds. She strode in as if the room was not private and struck a commanding pose.

"If you are here to demand an answer to the question you posed me yesterday, then you might not like the answer," he said quietly as he carefully finished writing a sentence. "I told you I need time to think about it, and there are a number of issues on my mind these days that need consideration."

"Do you know why Thor must attend the court all next week?" she asked.

"This is the first I've heard of it," Loki supplied. "The festival is rapidly approaching. Maybe father wants him to be more involved in its planning? I don't know of any high-profile prisoners or crimes… sorry, that's all I can think of."

"He received the order at the training grounds. My grandfather laughed and said he should have expected it," Sif elaborated.

"Then ask him?" Loki shrugged and turned back to the organized riot of papers and notebooks on his desk. The next couple sentences had several difficult words in them and he gently leafed through the primer, pulling scrap paper over to diagram the first one. The other warriors huffed, and Volstagg said something rude under his breath about Loki's secretive nature.

"What is all this?" Sif asked when it was clear Loki wouldn't say anything else.

"Parts of lost books. I'm trying to translate them so that they can be added to the library," Loki mumbled absently as he looked at how the words interacted.

"Isn't that a librarian's work?" Fandral asked, distaste clear in his voice and stance. Loki finished re-reading the passage to ensure he had the proper context before answering.

"I found them and a crotchety old woman willing to teach me some of how to read them," Loki said as he took up the fine pen and pulled the leather-bound book back within easy reach. "This is my discovery." He carefully wrote in the freshly decrypted sentence on the right-hand page and the original on the left. "This is the scholar's equivalent of a battlefield set in my opponent's favor, and I have been victorious so far in this campaign." He shifted back to the original to diagram the next sentence, referencing his earlier attempt at decrypting this passage and frowning.

"What is it about?" Sif asked.

"Channeling magic into a containment loop to make spells longer lasting and enchant items with less complex internal structures than otherwise would be required," Loki supplied. He re-ordered the words trying to preserve a subtlety of meaning, and went back to another flimsy notebook to check how one of the words had been used previously.

"That is high magic," Hogun spoke.

"Soft or warm?" Loki mumbled. "Flexible…"

"Sorry?" Volstagg snorted. "Are you trying to describe magic or a woman's body?"

"Consider for a moment the difference in meaning caused by inserting the word 'only' into different parts of the sentence 'He told her that he loved her,' and then ask yourself if what I am doing is difficult," Loki snapped at the man. Then he sat back with a sigh and rubbed at his temple. "Flexible, in this context, and soft in the other," he decided and sat forward to scribble on the scratch paper.

"Come eat something, this will still be here later," Sif suggested with a wry smile. "Unless you have the rhythm of battle carrying you forward."

"No, I have been marching through deep swamp water the last hour," he admitted. "This is high magic lost to this realm for at least as long as I have been alive, if not since the war with Svartalfheim. Similar techniques made such wonders as Mjolnir, though this isn't dwarvish craft. I'm not just translating it, I'm learning it. Luckily this is not the highest levels of such crafts, but a book for a mage first learning the art. This is likely just the first version of several translations before I can call it finished, but I expect I will have made it clear enough that I can submit it to the guild when I am done and then have help refining it." He stood and stretched. "There was a rough draft prior to this, a mock battle in preparation that I lost less than graciously." He left everything just as it was knowing once the door was locked no one would dare enter.

"What was that word puzzle?" Fandral asked as they walked away from the library. "He told her only that he loved her?"

"That is the tale of two lovers parting. Now, move the word 'only' around. There is a sweet love story in the sentence 'He told her that he loved only her' and a tragedy in 'Only he told her that he loved her.' Don't you think?" Loki asked.

"What about 'He told only her that he loved her?'" Sif asked.

"Now that is a tangled one. Why would he tell only his beloved the depth of his feelings? What fear or scandal kept it so quiet?" Loki mused.

"He told her that he only loved her," Hogun spoke. "As if that was not enough by itself, and he would need more."

"I like that one too," Loki sighed. "Imagine the circumstance, a man with so little to offer his lady that he can't imagine her accepting."

"Or else you tag on the words 'like a sister' and it changes again," Volstagg supposed, then frowned. "That breaks the rules of the game, doesn't it?"

"It could also mean that he loved only one woman, and not many, though that implies that he'd needed to make the clarification," Sif pointed out.

"'He only told her that he loved her' is secretive," Fandral piped up. "He had more to say, like that he was already married."

"It could be that he only needed to say that much," Sif suggested. "A bold public declaration might be all she needed to fall in his arms. The opposite of that earlier one, where he would not speak it openly."

"Ah, but then the bold declaration can become a tragedy. It takes significant bravery to make such a statement publicly, and the lady might not like his first words. He only told her that he loved her before she slapped him into silence," Loki teased. The other warriors laughed, but Sif gave him a considering look. They continued their chatter as they made their way to Thor's apartment, but he wasn't there.

"Tell my brother we are in my chambers when he returns," Loki told the servant tending the fire.

"Eh? Where will you fit us all?" Volstagg questioned, but Loki and Hogun had already walked out. Loki's servants had been loitering outside and got to work as soon as they saw him turn toward them. He caught Sven and gave him a message before the man evaporated.

Loki's front room was one of the largest single rooms other than the dining rooms in the royal apartments, which was how he was able to use it as both a lounge and his office comfortably. As he walked in Loki pulled a cover and his desk was completely hidden inside a metallic cabinet, providing privacy and letting him forget it existed. Servants zipped through the room activating a few latent spells or carrying in extra chairs. The low table shifted away from the fireplace to make room for the comfortably upholstered chairs. His front room was always well lit with mage lights scattered across the dark ceiling, the hearth dark as its heat was unneeded this time of year. Several of the side tables easily slid out of the way to make more room. They became one long display table, and then the servants were gone. During the commotion Loki swallowed his evening potion, then sat down in his favored armchair.

"I didn't know this room did that," Volstagg admitted.

"It is a big room," Hogun said simply.

"I generally go to others, but my friends do come to me from time to time. Seating for three is usually enough, so that's what I keep, but I have more chairs for when the need arises," Loki said.

"Well now you have too many," Fandral pointed out.

"Brelyna and Alec have a standing invitation on the second Friday of the month," Loki shrugged, reaching for the teapot that just arrived. "Sometimes Master Tolfdir comes as well, but I doubt he'll come tonight. He doesn't like a crowd, and he has been preparing to return home before the Festival."

"Why would he leave before?" Volstagg asked. "He will miss the feasting!"

"Religious obligation," Loki answered simply, and sipped his tea.

"It is a spiritual event, not just a feast," Hogun reminded the others. "Those from other realms don't always like to participate in such things."

"That's silly," Fandral dismissed. "He doesn't have to leave the realm to avoid participating."

"He is an Alf of lower blood," Loki specified. "His family has very strong traditions, and ritualistic hunting is taboo. Most of their people are vegetarians, and view eating meat the same as we view cannibalism. He has no problem if others eat as they please in front of him, but he would not go so far as to serve meat to a guest at his table under any circumstance." Fandral and Volstagg leaned back.

"You have gone with him during their holidays, haven't you?" Sif asked.

"I was invited to observe on a couple occasions, which is an honor, but I was barred from participating. I'm not at liberty to describe all I saw, but it was beautiful and solemn. The rules are very strict about that sort of thing. There are very few exceptions allowed, and I'll leave it at that," Loki sighed, then shook his head and veered away from the morbid topic. "How have preparations for the festival been going in your home, Volstagg?"

"You found one and put your fingers in it," Fandral encouraged.

"Yes, it is the sort of thing you'd do," Volstagg chuckled.

"I was invited to preparations for my Master's eventual death and funeral, so that I will be allowed to attend the ceremony without embarrassing myself when the time comes," Loki said, voice flat. "Now, if you want to continue to make light of a serious topic, it is not too early for you to leave and dine elsewhere."

"Well, I didn't know…" Volstagg trailed off.

"Sif, what plans does your family have for the festival?" Loki asked.

"My grandfather seems to be running about at all hours of the night and day," Sif jumped on the changed subject. "I don't know what he's planning, but I think this year's Festival will be exciting in my house."

"The children love it, of course," Volstagg said, regaining his jovial expression. "Gudrun normally doesn't spoil them overmuch, but during that week they run a little wild. It's good for them, to have a time that isn't so strict."

"I will be in the temple much of the week, I think," Loki offered.

"That's a change," Fandral noted. "None of us have attended more of the ceremonies than we had to since we were kids." There was a knock at the door, and it opened immediately.

"Hello," Alec greeted. "What story from your childhood am I missing?" Brelyna came in behind him, hesitating when she saw the collection of warriors as if she hadn't believed Sven's warning.

"We are talking of our plans for the Festival," Loki explained. "I have had a few invitations, and decided not to decline them this year. I'll be spending much of the week in the temple parties, aside from the hunt of course."

"Oh, wonderful!" Brelyna crowed. "I've been waiting for you to accept our invitations for years. Who kicked you? Was it Anna? She said she had something up her sleeve."

"The pastries were delicious, but she sends them every year," Loki waved off. "I still have some, if you'd like one for dessert."

"Wife shopping," Alec guessed with a wink. "He's gone to that huge building after all the furniture has been stripped out of it. I bet it echoes like a cave, and why else does a man our age skip the rowdy parties in favor of all those repetitive ceremonies? The temple will be full of painted ladies being elegant."

"Put that way, perhaps I might suffer a bout of sudden religious fervor myself," the Fandral barked, laughing.

"Maybe I just want to spend some time with friends who are not as free to travel to my new home before I leave," Loki suggested.

"Oh, it was the Queen," Brelyna deduced, her face softening at the revelation. "The only person who can reliably kick you out of your own funk."

"No offense my friend, but you have been miserable company lately," Alec said apologetically.

"I have not been any different," Loki argued. Volstagg grunted his agreement.

"Prince Loki has been busy," Hogun offered.

"You put on a good show of being fine, but your sense of humor has been all but absent for well over a year," Alec continued. "We've been worried."

"Thank you, but I have just been a bit overworked. Even the side project I am doing for fun is strenuous," Loki parried. "I'll be fine in a little while. As I told you the other day, there is a great deal going on since the announcement."

"Then Prince Thor should be doing the bulk of it," Alec argued. "It's his coronation. He wants the big chair, let him do the big work. There's no sense running yourself into the ground now, when he might need you later on."

"Thor is doing his share as well," Fandral defended.

"I haven't heard of the elder Prince being walked to the Healing Rooms suffering exhaustion," Alec bit back.

"If you call yourself his friend, then you should not diminish Loki's contributions by implying they are unnecessary," Sif countered. Something fuzzy and warm squirmed in Loki's chest at her words.

"Peace," Loki urged. "Alec, there are things I cannot tell you due to your station. It would put you in a compromising position, and I will not jeopardize your career for such a small thing."

"Any more than getting my commanding officer sacked?" Alec asked. Volstagg choked on his beer, Hogun nodded, and Sif grew contemplative.

"He did that to himself," Loki scoffed.

"I heard there was a shake-up in the guard command," Fandral piped up. "No one seemed willing to talk much. Perhaps you could share the details?" Alec looked to Loki for permission and he gestured artfully for the guardsman to go ahead. He'd heard the details already. The false hope they had given him still stung a little, but it wasn't a bad story.

"My former commander was under the mistaken opinion that when the Prince and I share a few beers or chat over lunch that it is just a cover. He suggested, in front of the whole unit, that Loki changes shape into a woman when we are alone, and that we are secret lovers," Alec spat.

"Do not take this the wrong way, Alec, but I'd never touch you," Loki chuckled. "You are lacking a few key traits."

"Yeah, one right here, and the other here," he joked and pointed to his chest and then his lap.

"I don't know," Brelyna hummed. "I can't remember hearing Loki praise a woman's chest much."

"You are a woman," Volstagg pointed out. "He's too well-mannered to say that in front of you."

"You underestimate how many times I've seen him drunk," Brelyna teased. "He'll talk for an hour about a woman's body when he's wound up, but not about huge breasts."

"I am in the room still," Loki pouted into his tea and tried to gauge Sif's reaction.

"Legs," Alec exclaimed, throwing up his hands, "and the rear view. How could I have gotten that wrong? Well, plenty of women have told me I have no butt. I've made my peace with being built like a triangle." He leaned back with his hands behind his head, making the difference between his upper and lower body all the more obvious.

"You were saying, about your former commander?" Loki prompted.

"The King came down to the training grounds for a full inspection about halfway through Loki's trip," Alec continued the tale. "The lot of you were away on a hunt I think. He talked about discipline and chain of command for a while, a fine speech and one a bit overdue in my opinion. Then the King had a few of the commanders brought to one of the private rooms. No one speaks of what happened in there, but it wasn't nice. Four of them got promotions or honors, depending on their unit's condition, and three others were kicked down a peg. It was strictly by the book, official paperwork citing all their accomplishments and screw-ups. All except for the commander of the Mage Guard. He was stripped of his rank and met at the entrance to the training grounds by a wagon holding the contents of his quarters. The charges were Gross Insubordination and Conduct Unbecoming. He's lucky he didn't get the ax and knew it, given how fast he ran. It could have been called treason."

"For an off-color joke?" Volstagg asked.

"It was no single joke, Lord Volstagg," Brelyna scolded. "There is a difference between a jest between friends and comments intended to discredit a superior or undermine the authority of the crown. Prince Loki is nominally in charge of the Mage's Wing despite letting us self-police for the most part, and his talents with seidr sometimes cause respect issues. The commander is meant to bend knee to him, as are they all, and mocking him so openly was wrong."

"What happens when a discredited Officer gives a command?" Alec asked. "The men think before deciding if they want to obey, instead of trusting that those placed above them have the training and knowledge to do their jobs. Blind obedience can be just as dangerous, but figuring out if you want to listen and then figuring out if the order is farcical takes twice as much brainpower as it needs to. Men die in combat over that sort of hesitation, and that's assuming it doesn't fester into something worse. I will not watch that happen to my shield brothers quietly. Besides that, our unit is meant to be some of the best trained men in the realm, and it was a high honor when I was assigned to it. That sort of shit-brained foolishness was making all of us look like a joke."

"Have I arrived at a bad time or a particularly good one?" Thor asked. They all startled and looked at the door. Loki would have to ask Sven to put a bit of sand on the hinge, it was too well oiled.

"The guardsman's honor was offended," Volstagg explained.

"Alec just finished telling of how the commander of the Mage Guard was removed," Loki elaborated. Thor's face split into a grin.

"Then I can add to the discussion by giving you some glad news, brother. There has been a disagreement among the generals as to who to promote to the vacant position," Thor said as he took the last chair. Servants immediately started fetching food now that they were all gathered. One of Thor's came in with his drink and seemed startled at the state of the room. The portly man must be new.

"I know that, they have been squabbling like toddlers over it for weeks. I don't see how it is glad news," Loki prompted.

"I reminded them that you are not just a sorcerer, and that you have been left out of the room even though you are in the chain of command. They will leave it to your discretion," Thor said as if he was giving Loki some great treat, gesturing vaguely to Loki's hidden desk. "I've just come from them; the official notice will arrive shortly."

"Fuck," Loki said. He put down his cup and leaned forward to rest his head on one hand.

"Don't worry about it," Alec immediately responded.

"You deserve the post," Loki snapped.

"You can't give it to me, it would stink of favoritism, so don't," Alec waved off.

"It would stink of worse than that," Brelyna pointed out, "considering why and how you've been defending the crown's honor."

"If he deserves it then give it to him," Thor said simply. "We'll toast it tonight, and then you won't have to be at the training grounds all next week."

"Is moral that low?" Sif asked thoughtfully. "If the previous commander damaged the unit badly enough to be ejected from the military, then a bad choice to fill the post could bring about the disaster we were just talking about." Since everyone was looking at her, Loki took the chance to rake his eyes down her body. Her eyebrow quirked in response, bring attention back to him.

"The Mage Guard has been turned inside-out by a Sergeant treating a Prince as if he was a cranky woman he was meant to be defending instead of a superior warrior he was meant to obey. I have dealt with it as best I could, but I have been advocating the man's dismissal for years to no effect. By ignoring my repeated requests, the generals blunted my ability to discipline any of the men in my command. Eventually the men realized the limit of my power: that I could not demote them or effect their careers negatively outside of a day's inconvenience. I switched to the tactic of rewarding those who did well and making life as miserable as possible for those who did not, but without the ability to transfer troublemakers to less glamorous positions or dock their pay I lost power over them," Loki explained.

"The toilets in the mage's wing and the barracks have a habit of overflowing when the insubordination gets out of hand," Alec clarified. "Then a few men would be volunteered by their Prince to clean it up. Other times a certain shift would be sleeping and the environmental spells would go all out of alignment, leaving them shivering in their bunks or roasting in heat, only to snap back into place in time for the next shift to get off. It helped remind them who was in charge, but it would be better done by the book."

"I had thought this was a settled matter being drug out only because that rat of a man had friends in high places. I had the word of several that they would name you, and there is more than enough to recommend you to the post," Loki grumbled. "I was not left out, I made it clear that the regular reports I had filed spoke for themselves and excused myself from their foolish hand-wringing to guard against rumors similar to what we'd just talked about occurring between Alec and I. I will come down on the unit like hellfire in any case, since I have finally been given leave to properly deal with those who can't keep up. I can make sure the other bad eggs are gone before you are named."

"Like I said, don't worry about it. I'll be fine, just pick someone who will be fair," Alec said.

"You seem like a good man," Sif observed. Loki set his teeth. "It's a pity you are so weak-willed."

"Pardon?" Brelyna asked, offended on Alec's behalf. Alec's own expression grew stormy.

"You are sitting here in a room with both Princes of the Realm, the granddaughter of Grandmaster Tyr, and three highly respected noble warriors who all think that passing a man over for promotion because he is too loyal to crown and country is ridiculous," Sif bit out. Loki had the impression that either Volstagg or Fandral was about to point out that none of the Warriors Three had said any such thing, but they looked among themselves and shrugged. Sif continued before they came to a consensus. "I understand that some politics is scuttling about in back rooms and begging favors, but sometimes you draw your blade and stand your ground. There is enough power in this room to quiet any unrest."

"Does that power follow him to bed at night?" Brelyna asked. "Sometimes the harder you push, the more the world pushes back."

"Don't quote the first lessons of magic at me as if I was never a girl forced to weave yarn," Sif snapped.

"It is a valid tactic," Loki observed. "Unless you are outright refusing the promotion. I still want to spend a day or two grinding a few annoying bugs beneath my heel, but once I have proved my point I doubt there will be anyone else in as favorable a position as you."

"There is no need to be overly cruel," Fandral cautioned. "If they already don't like you, that won't help anything."

"How else do you discipline an unruly group?" Loki asked. "Shall I bake them a cake and pretend that the only problem was one man?"

"I think it is a fine plan," Thor declared, and all argument immediately evaporated. They spoke only of trivial things after that, and Loki posed a few more word games to the group to puzzle over. It was a more relaxed an evening than the clashing personalities in the room would have predicted, and perhaps Loki's earlier thoughts on how impossible integrating the two groups would be needed revision.


	14. Family Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, for people with internal problems, everything looks fine. Because he's fine. Really, this is fine. Everything is fine. *flames in the background*
> 
> Sometimes moms have a reason to spy on their teenagers.

The days passed swiftly, and Loki was startled by how late in August it was already. Mother said he looked happier and less stressed when he met with her on Sunday and he couldn't bring himself to disagree. She played the harp and he sat at the piano for most of the morning, going over the melodies they would hear at the upcoming festival. She encouraged him to keep at whatever was giving him happiness, and they talked lightly on how he might balance his life once he was living on his own.

Loki spent Monday forcing the guardsmen through advanced drills. The lack of time to prepare meant that the men expected a re-hash of their combat trials, but by noon they started to realize something was off. There was no break for lunch, and at times the rapid pace of the training was almost as swift as real combat. Packs were given to the men late in the afternoon during a water break and they started marching. A guard post in the Mage's wing was a comfortable spot: they guarded the halls of scholars against thieves and vandals. They lived in the capital, stood watch in comfort, and were often in the company of young women studying through their apprenticeship. Loki was reminding them of less desirable posts. The hard march lasted into the night before they made camp. They were all fresh and well-fed from the weekend. There was no reason they couldn't march until dawn, and Loki gave the eight men who had lagged too far behind the sharpest tongue-lashing they had ever had for the laziness. If he could keep in proper condition while spending hours on end in the library, then guardsmen who were paid to spend a certain amount of time training their bodies had no excuse.

Since they had to stop early, they had to move faster the next day to reach the large, flat grasslands where full-scale war games were played. The pace was hard even on Loki himself, and a couple men were left behind altogether - when they caught up they would no longer be part of the Mage Guard and would be sent back to Gladsheim for reassignment. Amora the Enchantress and seven other sorceresses he had selected were waiting for them when they arrived just before sundown, having traveled there in comfortable flying boats.

Loki introduced the women as their opponents for the first exercise. The stupid laughed, the smart gathered their willpower. They made camp for the night at the edge of the field. The sorceresses wove their magic through the field while most of the men settled down to eat and rest. The more alert, including Alec, were not as surprised when they were attacked at midnight.

By the time dawn broke the camp was in shambles. Illusions, mage fire, bewitched animals, and even the odd mind control spell had broken the men and scattered them into the trees. Loki called them back to the tattered tents, asking them what sort of foes they expected to fight while guarding the home of the most powerful magics in the nine realms. Their post was comfortable and honored because it was dangerous - those seeking to steal from their wards would not square off in honorable combat like dull brutes. They used the wily tricks of women, or were women, and if the men could not hold together and listen to commands then they made themselves into an illusion: paper soldiers with no substance at all.

The speech was Loki at his best, leaving not a single man with his head held high. Their utter defeat by a handful of women stung all the worse as Loki explained that he had taken no part in either side beyond giving mostly ignored orders to the guardsmen: he cast no spell, devised no tactic, and drew no blade against them. It was their own disobedience and sloth that defeated them, and he made sure they knew it.

The sorceresses were thanked and dismissed. The men were given some actual rest. Then, Loki started drilling them in his own way. How to recognize mental enchantment in a shield-brother, the practicality of jumping out of the way of larger projectiles, and the idea that dodging an unknown spell was five times less likely to kill you than bocking it with a shield were all covered. These were things that they ought to have known so well they were instinctive, tactics that they had been taught before they could join this unit, but they were not the sort of thing one could walk onto the training grounds and practice on any random day. It took special preparation for these drills, and their former commander had neglected it out of misogyny. Knowledge of magic and physical weakness did not always go hand in hand, and even when it did, well, he'd only needed to speak Lorelei's name to have them all stiffen in fear.

When Loki returned to the capital late Friday afternoon the men were dragging their feet with exhaustion. He kept a slow pace to conceal his own fatigue, just managing to endure through the official ceremony in the Throne Room that raised Alec to Commander of the Mage Guard before he collapsed onto the chaise in his front room. He'd get to the bathtub once he regained feeling in his legs. Thor suddenly entering the room startled Loki, and the bright sunlight streaming in around the curtains had him blinking in confusion until he realized he'd fallen asleep on the chaise. If he smelled half as filthy as he felt Thor had likely come investigating the stink.

"Good Morning, Brother," Thor laughed. "I take it you worked yourself as hard as the guardsmen?"

"Not so loud," Loki complained, scraping himself up and blinking around until he located the covered pot of tea that had been left for him. The warming plate had kept it hot and even though it tasted as if it had been sitting for hours, and he drank it greedily.

"Well, I'll let you recover, but when you are awake enough I'll be out at the Oak Tavern into this evening," Thor chuckled, patting Loki on the head like a child. Loki crawled through a bath and into soft clothes before spending a lazy day of rest lounging in the garden. He considered meeting up with Thor. A couple months ago he would have gone no matter how he felt about it, and he should go flirt with Sif more, but he didn't like himself when he was drunk (not that he liked himself too well at any time these days.)

The introspection forced on him by the revelation of his changeling nature was a bother, and it refused to be ended. He'd known perfectly well who he was: the second-born Prince of Asgard, sorcerer and warrior. He'd imagined that either Father or Thor would find use for his tactical and organizational skills before now, since his magical talents were too womanly to acknowledge with an official post, but they hadn't. He did like the work he did, but it was a fairly low position in the court for someone of his rank. The workings he used to discern truth were a good job, but the place of an artisan's daughter. He couldn't say he disliked the scandal the post initially created or the precedent that now allowed others to beg training outside their expected roles, but it was disappointing to have his life stagnate.

Yes, that must be the true source of his misery: The sameness. There were so many things he could do, but in the decades since he'd finished his conscription he had gone back to the place in the court he'd carved for himself and stayed there. Staying put wasn't something he ever liked, and there was no clear path to advance for a man in a woman's profession. Invention was the only thing open to him, but for all that he could memorize whole books of spells he was not a prolific creator of them. The best of his 'invention' was in melding different disciplines to create more efficient methods of achieving known ends. While his ability to travel the realms was greater than most, it was hardly groundbreaking. It wasn't like Asgard would need an alternative to the Bifrost, or that he would happily gift the knowledge to other realms. He doubted he'd actually achieve much beyond locating, using, and re-publishing rare or lost knowledge unless some grand infrastructure project came along for him to lead.

 Changing his shape was a thrill, it opened up his life to a thousand possibilities that he was frustratingly not allowed to investigate. While Odin insisted that Loki was better off never leaving the shape he currently had and required assurances that his son had no desire to lay with men, that simply wasn't true. He longed to experiment with his feminine body, but he knew how disappointed his father would be at the mere concept of his son having such desire. He'd loved how accepting his mother was, and it chafed how she seemed to only be so welcoming to the idea as a necessary experimentation for his continued health. A simple biological condition that was in treatment. He'd been playing up his 'illness' to keep her sympathy and keep Thor from thinking about it too much, but he could only blame the fading scars on his seidr for so long. He missed Odaric's casual acceptance of his duality, and wasn't that the worst of all the ridiculous and impossible emotions his mind could choose to dwell on?

What was he? Who was he? The questions chased themselves in his mind, refusing to be properly answered. He'd put them aside, managed to keep himself busy with the hints of rebellion stirring among the common people, ensuring that Thor did not over-insulate himself from conflicting opinions, and the translations of the Jotun texts, but they came rushing back as he lay across a bench surrounded with late summer flowers. He wanted to change to his feminine form, meander through the garden and braid flowers in his hair, then go to the tavern smelling of sweet nectar and dressed in the finest silk. He wanted to go hunting with Thor during the festival and come home to stand beside his mother in the temple as a sorceress with ribbons in his pocket. He wanted to bring someone into his bed willing to roll dice over what set of physiology Loki would cover them with. He wanted to know what Baron Rald's son was blushing about, and maybe give zir a better reason to blush.

He stayed on the bench.

There was something broken inside him, something wrong. There had to be. Perhaps this was all confusion and sickness of the mind, like Father said it was. He'd confused himself, and he needed to get a grip on his mind before he lost it. He should go drinking with Thor and whisper of carnal pleasures in the ear of some woman until she blushes and takes him back to her bed. He should flirt with Sif and fan the sparks the thrill of conquest struck in his heart until he loved her as much as his lying tongue said he did. He should forget his other shapes now that Eir had confirmed the health of them and be a proper son of Asgard.

"My son, are you well?" Mother's voice dripped concern. Loki sat up quickly, turning away to hide his face with one leg on the wrong side of the bench. It was too late, she must have seen him crying. Even worse, she wasn't alone.

"Loki," Father's voice rumbled, "answer your Mother."

"I have not been well in centuries," Loki said, the words spilling from him morosely.

"Eir told me that you healed yourself when you were changed the other day," Mother spoke gently. "Was she mistaken? Are you having another… spasm?"

"No," Loki told them. "It is nothing like that."

"Loki," Father sighed, his hand suddenly squeezing Loki's shoulder. "You need to give us a proper answer."

"I wish I could, but I don't have one," Loki said.

"Lady Sif should not be so unkind to you," Father said as he sat down, and Loki twitched. "I hadn't realized you looked at her that way, or so strongly at anyone."

"I… haven't given up," Loki admitted, glad to talk about anything else. He turned to sit properly on the gently curved bench, Mother arraigning her skirts to sit on the far side of Father in a way that let Loki see them both easily. "I thought I had, but then General Tyr asked me for a favor. After I began I discovered that perhaps I'd made a mistake agreeing."

"He spoke to me about you two not long ago. I told him I didn't think you held any fondness for Lady Sif at all. I took offense when the Grandmaster insinuated I didn't know you well, but perhaps I overlooked something between you," Father sighed. "Exactly what favor did he ask of you?"

"Sif has been pining after Thor for decades, but he'll never look at her. Not the way things are, in any case. Tyr wanted me to try and turn her head, enough to show her that she has set herself up for heartbreak. The idea is that she would realize that other men of worth look at her with fondness, and not that I would have her in the end. I warned him that I once… I cut off her hair when she teased me for being more of a girl than she was. That was what it was about: she'd been cruel to me when I was trying to confess to her," Loki finished in a rush.

"You were still quite young then," Odin observed, thoughtful.

"At the time Thor was still pulling on braids himself," Mother smiled fondly, her voice gentle with good memories. "Young boys are as likely to shove a girl they fancy into a mud puddle as give her a flower." Father nodded, clearly thinking of the prank in that light for the first time.

"You never did say your side of things," he prompted. It took significant effort for Loki to restrain himself from pointing out who told him to be quiet and accept his punishment for doing such a terrible thing to a helpless girl. Mother shook her head as if she knew well enough, but sat back a little clearly waiting for a more detailed explanation.

"I'd woven two crowns of flowers, but I had arrived too early and she was still in her sewing class. I stood outside the door and kept my back straight, as if I was at court observing. Before I could give one of the crowns to her I'd been spotted by the other girls in her class. I stood my ground and waited for their class to end even though they were all giggling at me. I was already wearing the other crown, which perhaps was the biggest mistake of the day. Sif was the loudest voice. She tossed the apron she'd been embroidering at me and said I wasn't dressed right to join their class, and a number of other things I don't quite remember." That was a lie, he could recite the hateful speech easily. "The next day when I was swimming with Thor, Sif stole my clothes and left behind a dress. After that the other boys wouldn't let me play with them, because Sif said I was ergi."

"Such language at that age?" Mother gasped.

"I hadn't thought such things started until much later," Father grumbled.

"To my knowledge it began around that time, though while she was the first to say it where I could hear I'm not sure if she was actually the first to say it," Loki huffed. "I cut off her hair, and that seemed to solve things for a while. I was in trouble, but I wasn't a coward or unworthy of playing boy's games any longer."

"And now it pains you again," Odin sighed. "What was done to you?"

"Little," Loki shrugged.

"What did you do?" Mother asked, always knowing the right question to ask.

"Poured out my heart and soul after having been welcomed to Tyr's table, where he made a show of approving of me, and kissed her hand," Loki rushed out the words. "It was the best showing I could hope for, considering."

"And how did she react to this?" Odin asked.

"A few words of suspicion, followed by a few that border on blackmail, and then nothing. The next day it was as if I'd never said a thing. It is not as if I've given her much time to consider, and I was not available for such things this last week," Loki admitted. "I just don't have much hope."

"Somehow, I don't think that is all that is on your mind," Mother supposed.

"Death," Loki murmured.

"What?" Odin barked, the hand on Loki's shoulder clenching.

"There has been some unrest among the common people, surrounding the announcement of Thor's coronation," Loki said quietly.

"Nonsense and paranoia," Odin dismissed. "It will settle down in a year or two, if it even takes that long."

"How long did Ville and Ve live, after you took the throne?" Loki asked his father earnestly. The old King's expression spoke volumes. "It is not pride, or not only pride, that motivates me to strike down those who speak ill of my integrity. If I am seen that way, as weak and strange, then…"

"This is why I tried to put a lid on things when you were young," Odin insisted. "If you would only listen, and act as you ought to, then there would be no issue. You took those soldiers to task well this week, a fine show of strength and battle prowess. Let that be your shield against such threats." Loki cringed away from the insistence. He could do those things, but he knew what would happen to his spirit over time. He could fight as well as any man could be expected to, better than the average soldier by a league even if Thor could toss him around like a rag doll, but it did not leave him in a celebratory mood as it should. He'd be a paranoid mess within a year, no better drunk on the rush of battle than he was on cheap ale.

"Is it possible you chose the wrong gender for me?" Loki asked, unable to keep the tremble from his voice. Instead of waiting for an answer Loki rushed to explain, words tumbling out of him like grain from an overturned barrel. "I know you told me to put these things out of mind, but I can't stop thinking about it. It invades my thoughts and aches my heart. I like magic, I dislike war, I prefer art and quiet over a night in a tavern, I preen over new clothes. Does it matter how good a soldier I am, when I do not revel in battle as the others do? When they are right and I am a coward who would rather avoid a fight? With my way with words, if my heart was in it, I could have plenty of women in my bed. I just don't try very hard, and my failure in that area only bothers me because of how others view it and not because I really want that much female attention. I can't even decide what to make of my affection for Lady Sif, if I want those sparks to catch or if there is even anything for them to catch on." Loki only stopped speaking because Mother wrapped him in an embrace. Father's hand was still warm on his shoulder.

"You should have stayed here," Odin scolded.

"Don't," Mother warned him, pulling back from Loki to squeeze in between her son and the end of the bench. The two men shifted, their good manners letting the woman sit where she pleased.

"These aren't new thoughts." Loki was surprised he wasn't crying again. He felt hollowed out, yet things kept spilling from him. "Finding out what I am only gave me a focus for these feelings. Something clear I can see and strike at, rather than having them dance about me like shapes in a fog. At least now I can put the vague shapes together as a single beast to slay, instead of retreating from what is wrong with me in confusion."

"There is nothing wrong with you," Odin assured. Loki snapped his head around to look at his Father. "You are a pain in my neck, as all sons are, far too curious for your own good, and graced with more intelligence than wisdom, but that is the way of things. This should not trouble you so much. It is a thing done long ago that could not be undone if we wanted it. If you were in turmoil you should not have left, and then we would have dealt with this already."

"I don't think you understand," Loki complained. "I don't often leave the palace with a light heart. That's rather the point of my traveling. I go because I am a coward."

"Explain that," Mother urged, with the soft sternness she'd used when he was small and refusing to stay abed late at night.

 "I leave because I am miserable, and come home when I remember how hurt you would be if I didn't," Loki said, the words clawing out of him like shards of glass. His gaze was locked on a drooping flower, it's petals fading with the summer ending. "I run despite being unable to escape myself."

"Loki," Mother breathed.

"If you think this sickness of the mind is caused by my shape-changing, then it must have been sparked well before the geas was put on me. I need you to answer me properly. Is there a chance you chose the wrong shape for me? Is this the skin I was meant to have?"Loki asked, desperate.

"This is the skin the Norns gave you, from the moment I first held you in my hands," Odin said. "You were small, four pounds at most, but with a tremendous pair of lungs."

"Small like… like my little brother?" Loki spat out before the memory could overwhelm him.

"Smaller," Father confirmed, voice wistful in memory, "but a strong-willed boy, and _healthy_ despite your size." The three of them sat quietly for a while. Mother pet his back gently and Father's hand was strong on his shoulder. Loki had just about resolved himself to ask more about Baulder's illness when Odin suddenly lifted his hand and clapped Loki on the back.

"Don't bother with Lady Sif," Odin said with finally. Loki looked at him, unsure why he felt a spark of hope. "Keep to yourself a little while, until this confusion passes, or else pick a few trustworthy soldiers to go carousing with."

"I agree," Mother chimed in. "You are in no state to fling yourself into a long-term relationship, and certainly not when the lady's opinion is so dear to you. Avoid her outright, if you must, but it would be folly to begin with a damaged heart and expect it not to be broken. You need to take care of yourself first. Like I said before, focus on things you enjoy. That will put the unpleasant things into perspective."

"That only works until I am exhausted, which is how I came to be here this morning," Loki complained.

"You don't have to keep busy every second of the day. I know you find joy in less strenuous things," Mother assured. "You are just trying too hard. You have a house nearly ready for you, but there is no rush to fill it. Stand on your own a while, until you are as sure of your strength as we are."

"Yes," Odin was nodding along. "You are so worried over this that you can't see that it effects so little as to not be worth mentioning. Were all the answers to your questions different, it would change nothing. Until this useless turmoil has settled: keep away from Lady Sif, have fun at the festival, and enjoy your hunt for the sake of old men who can't."

"I can do that," Loki agreed, nodding obediently.

"Sweetheart," Mother said, and waited until Loki turned to look at her fully before going on. "Have you considered that if Sif's treatment of you over the years caused this much pain, she isn't worth your time?" Loki blinked at her a moment, thinking of all the ways Sif and her adoption of a man's profession related to his crisis of gender. "I thought as much. Perhaps the lesson Tyr hoped to teach needs to reach another heart." Mother reached up and pat his cheek as she carefully enunciated her next words: "There are other women better suited to you."

"The tour of the realm you boys are planning," Father began thoughtfully, "or more properly, the one you are planning on dragging Thor into. It will take a while to be prepared. Perhaps, by that time, with all the eligible women in the realm lined up like happy flowers in a row, you will be ready to find one you like better." Loki jumped on the words.

"I had wanted to do it alone, at first. I told Thor about it once I was ready to seriously begin planning it. It seemed like a great idea at the time, because I want us to still be brothers when he is my king and it already seems we see each other less and less with each passing year. Sif follows Thor everywhere with stars in her eyes. That isn't why I don't spend as much time with him, but it isn't unrelated either," Loki bit out the words slowly, harnessing his other frustrations. He shuddered a little, thinking of some misguided assassin thinking he was doing one of them a favor by killing his brother. The thought turned his skin from pale to green. He took a breath to dismiss the nightmare and continued, sure his complexion matched his words.

"I don't want to watch that. No, I can't watch it. Tyr and Njor, when I went to them for advice over the trip, thought that we might set off in opposite directions. They were more concerned with how it may affect the realm, and I have read too many private letters supporting me to disagree with them. If Thor is going to go on a tour to celebrate his impending coronation, it may look quite odd to certain eyes to have me tagging along behind him. I am known for my silver tongue, and even for having used it on him from time to time. Even before you mentioned becoming Thor's vizier, I still thought it might look like I am maneuvering myself in a less than honorable fashion. If we announced that I am to be his vizier after a joint tour, the immediate response would be an assassin's blade at my neck."

"No one would dare," the King rumbled.

"They might dare, if they thought it was for the good of the realm," the Queen reminded him. "Loki is clearly the architect of the trip. Some might see it as manipulating his brother into doing something only Loki enjoys, and ensuring that the people think of him as a gatekeeper between them and their new King."

"I can't think of a way to split the trip. I can't tell Thor that I…. I can't tell Thor any of this," Loki spat, shaking his head violently. "I wish we were still that close, that I could trust him not to mock me so loudly the whole country would hear of it, but sometimes I don't think he's ever respected my personal secrets that much. I have no good excuse that I can use, and it isn't even that I actually want to travel separately from him. I just should, for the sake of my sanity and respect for how well my head is attached to my neck. Never mind that I can't get _any_ woman to walk past his door to mine when we are both here in the palace."

"Don't exaggerate," Father warned.

"I'm not. More than half the time I leave the Great Hall with a dancer she goes right into his apartment. Confusion over what gender I was meant to be aside, I am absolutely certain I have no interest in getting to know my brother that well," Loki scoffed.

"Well, we can be relieved for that," Mother tittered. "Odin, Loki has complained to me over that slight against him quite often ever since he started taking interest in such activities. Thor is a bit careless with how readily he welcomes such attention. That they use Loki to get into his bed is not something he should tolerate for several reasons, respect for his brother's feelings only being the closest to the heart. I've told him he needs to be a little more discerning in his tastes several times, but he seems to think it is either a change of habit he can put off, or a mother's nitpicking that he can ignore."

"I could probably go to the sorceresses and not have that problem, but I don't want to ruffle feathers where I work and study," Loki sighed.

"A decision that has nothing at all to do with avoiding a long-term or serious relationship while your heart pulls you toward another," Mother said slyly. "You poor thing, you could have told me about this years ago."

"Two tours of the realm, set off at the same time in opposite directions," Father mused. "It would make a bold statement, not only in this realm but among the Nine. You are both young men, in need of your own space. It could be greatly beneficial to both of you in your individual interests, and how our vassals respond differently to your visits would speak volumes about their opinions. However, I have always seen your differences as complimentary, and I want you to lean on one another when the situation calls for it. If I do this, I do not want this to be seen as a parting between you."

"Please, Father, if you can find a way to make this happen without telling Thor that I've spent centuries in love with a woman who has always hated me, then I'd gladly do anything…" Loki started to ask.

"By the will of the King," Father assured, "The tour will be split in two."

"Thank you, Father," Loki gushed, relief in every line of his body.

"Perhaps when it is over, and you are well settled in Eldred Hall, there will be enough of a boundary between your childish sharing of all things and your separate lives as grown men," Father mused. "I had thought you had that during your conscriptions, but now that I think on it Thor fought alongside you during most of your battles. You may not have had the sort of independence I expected the two of you to experience." The old man shook his head, settling back against the bench in an expression of supreme weariness. "I should have expected this, but I'd thought that Thor would be the one to wither if penned in, and that you were already quite independent and needed greater structure."

"When we were small, Father," Loki allowed. "Had I not been given such boundaries I would not have enjoyed testing them. Mischief is hardly any fun if no one bothers to make a fuss over it." Father grunted and Mother giggled a little at that. "I haven't been a little boy setting tacks on chairs for a while now."

"Now you have grown enough that the lattice you grew over is too small, and crave nothing more than to stand on your own," Mother observed, gesturing to a maturing Wisteria nearby. Loki thought through those words for a moment, looking at how the thick trunk of the plant was cracking the lattice it grew on. In another year or so it would be broken and removed, the gracefully trained spiral trunk left to stand beautifully on its own as its chaotic branches rested along the top of the low wall behind it, covering them with cascading flowers and leaves as the seasons dictated.

"That rings true," Loki said quietly. Odin gripped his shoulder again, using it as leverage to stand.

"When the subject next comes up, I will make it clear that I have two sons, and they should be acknowledged as men separately," Odin assured. "Now go fret over what thing you could wear to the first round of celebrations to ensure that half the young ladies of the realm want to shower you in ribbons." Loki stood and saluted as if he'd been given an official order and went to reorganize his closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, I want to make it 100% clear that the following statement is something I do not endorse: "Young boys pull hair/physically bully girls because they like them." No, they do it because they have not been taught proper manners. (This is as far into feminism as I go, but assholes don't become domestic abusers at age 18. It starts with the seeds of assholery.)


	15. Saturday at Eldred Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The workmen finish up the first round of renovations and the Rangers arrive.

Loki wasn't seen much in the palace for the rest of the summer. Aside from attending to his duties as Prince he was simply unavailable. Some days he went riding or locked himself into his study room in the Library. He amused himself in the marketplace and played with the children that always congregated around him. He let them be happy for him, since he wasn't quite up to the task himself, and entertained them with traditional stories and songs meant to teach manners and morals as he sat in the park. He rode alongside Tolfdir to the Bifrost when the old Alf headed home. He went to the hollow in the earth near Eldred house and pulled up the thick overgrowth that covered it.

Surprisingly, what he thought was a natural depression in the earth already had stone steps hidden beneath the overgrowth and soil. While it was clearly long out of use, it had been well made enough that it would not be much work to make the amphitheater useful again. The baker's wife wandered up while he was working out his frustrations on the remains of young trees he'd scorched, his magic flashing emerald and gold flames as he pulled up the larger roots and reduced the rest to loose ash. She claimed her great-grandparents had been married there on a well-kept lawn, and he confirmed that it would be restored. He made it sound like workmen would be finishing the task once he'd made an architect's assessment, but the hard work was too satisfying for him to hand off and it kept him from accidentally running into Thor and Sif. If either of them had asked after him or invited him to something that would be different, but he had promised not to seek Sif out. He wouldn't be accused of arranging some chance meeting, either. Besides, it felt good to take something that seemed neglected beyond repair and set it right.

Technically, he was not set to move to Eldred Hall until the end of the week-long Harvest Festival. The Rangers would assemble for their ten-year meeting at the beginning of the Festival week and he was expected to greet them, but not move in until after the holiday was over. So naturally, he decided to spend his first night there the day before it started, even if it meant upsetting everyone in the palace by not being available for private farewells and congratulations as expected. The city was already buzzing with activity, this last day of summer sending everyone running flat-out to finish their preparations. They would hardly notice he was gone until they compared notes and saw that he failed to show up at any of the dinners he'd been invited to attend.

The Harvest Festival that marked the start of Autumn was an odd sort of holiday, since many people were very deliberately still at work during it. It was a celebration of the first harvest, which was a lot of work for everyone and would not wait. Those in the fields, those who worked to preserve or process raw produce into other products, and those who carried it to market all had huge tasks set before them in the coming weeks, and this was only the beginning of their labors. To ensure that everyone received the blessings, the Temple repeated the same ceremonies every day for a week. This way, those who only spared a single day in prayer or celebration missed little while others could keep the work going, though the Royal Family only participated in the first full day aside from a couple ongoing duties for the King and Queen. It was also symbolic of the repeating cycle of seasons. For those of higher station and warrior families: men had the task of hunting good meat to go with the fruits of the earth, while women had the task of singing prayers to make the harvest easy and the winter kind. For Loki and Thor, the hunt had additional symbolism in providing for all the people of Asgard as a man would for his family.

Loki loved Autumn. Food was plentiful and cheap, with mothers scurrying to store it either in their cellars or in their children's fattening bellies before winter's chill set in. The landscape was awash in color, and the weather perfect for long rides on horseback or ship. The streets were full of children running wild on the excess of sweets, everyone had a song on their lips, and the air was perfumed with a thousand delicious scents. People took a second meaning to the blessings, and a shrewd eye could spot young men going stiff-legged to their future fathers-in-law to beg permission for a marriage. The weddings themselves would be in the spring of course, but the turn of seasons was enough time for a common family to sew proper wedding clothes and gather distant family. Other families were preparing for the birth of a child during the winter. Nobles weren't quite so superstitious, the more even spread of name-days throughout the seasons proved that well enough, though Loki himself was born in time with that rhythm. Men and boys alike would bring little gifts to the special women in their lives, to show thanks for the comfortable homes they provided in the previous year. Young women carried ribbons to tie onto their sweetheart's clothes, as a promise to give comfort during the coming cold.

Loki's mare picked her way through the crowded streets, keeping a steady pace even as several small children darted up to Loki. One little girl, much too small to know what the tradition was really about, offered Loki a lacy white ribbon. He tied it into her braid and told her he was flattered, which was good enough for her to brag about. She wasn't the only one starting early. Loki saw a woman sneaking up behind her target in the busy streets, stealthily tying a knot before darting away, a quick tug on the streaming ends the man's cue to give chase. Another time his attention was drawn to a young man fiddling with the ribbons in a woman's hair, seeing if she would let him talk her into getting one. Loki himself usually ended the week with two or three brightly colored ribbons while Thor had a thick handful. Given what his parents said of Thor's inability to be discerning about a women's company he decided not to feel quite so badly about how small his prize was by comparison.

Once he made it to the city gate he was able to pick up the pace. The hour or so ride by horse to Eldred Hall was pleasant enough, and he could use his sporty flying boat if he needed swifter travel. He liked riding and hoped the path wouldn't become too tedious when it was well-worn into his daily life. As he was ascending the hill he spotted movement in the amphitheater and changed course to see who was there. Two figures were dancing around, moving like wild things as they bounced from four legs onto two and back again. Sometimes they took the form of wolves as they went down on all fours, sniffing at the freshly disturbed earth and torn-up brush, other times they didn't bother.

"Geri, Freki, I did not expect you until tomorrow!" Loki called out when he was close enough. The pair abandoned their furry forms in favor of conversation. They were not inborn changelings; the wolf shape was a learned skill used by many Rangers.

"Prince Loki," Geri purred, "we are most pleased with the place you prepared for us. A number of us arrived in the night so we might spend today resting before the Festival began, and it was most comfortable." Her brown eyes flashed under gold hair streaked with gray. The lifestyle of rangers might be hard, but they kept a more youthful appearance without makeup than others did with it. As far as he knew they didn't live any longer than the average commoner, for all their timelessness made that seem possible.

"Yes, and then on our way up the hill we scented the magic here, and came to see what you have been dabbling in," Freki added, a joyful smile on his lined face. He tossed his red-brown ponytail over his shoulder as he sat on a stray rock. "Do tell us what you are making of this place."

"I noticed the shape in the land and started clearing the overgrowth thinking I could make it a meeting place for the people of my hold, to use when their business made it preferable to the hall itself. I hadn't realized the stone beneath was already shaped before I began," Loki explained as he dismounted. The mare was obedient enough to stand and graze where she was for a short time, and if something spooked her she'd run back to her own stable. Even if she ran all the way back to Gladsheim, it would not be a problem.

"It's gone fallow a long while, the wild took it back completely," Freki admired. "The circle is still strong, though. It has contained your spells and their echo hums." Loki nodded, able to feel the residual energy in the air for himself.

"How much will you polish it?" Geri asked, settling down to lounge on a patch of thick moss. The laced hide clothes she wore were finely crafted even if they were made of rough material, imitating a formal dress' shape when she stood or sat properly. She looked more like a high-born lady than a wild shaman when she wasn't crouching down on hands and knees.

"The center must be cleared to stone, of course, but I expect I will leave the outer few steps relatively untouched. The moss and grass over them blends well into the surrounding land," Loki supposed, in part saying what she would like to hear.

"Careful, you don't want to threaten it," Geri warned. "There are runes still in the stone, and they have been sleeping for a long time. That rest has made this place resonate. You must take care that the life these runes have absorbed does not lash out at you. I would clear it enough to be comfortable, and let the feet of those who use it keep it polished." Geri's tone made it clear that the place was nearly ready as it was in her opinion. A few stray rocks, two stunted trees, and a patch of wicked thorns were all that remained to be cleared away.

"Do you think the stones have absorbed that much wild magic, that they could spontaneously reflect a spell to protect their integrity?" Loki asked, curious.

"Have you not checked the stone for yourself?" Freki asked.

"I value your opinion. You can divine such things better than I can," Loki admitted.

"That is not what we have heard," Freki laughed.

"Go on and look at them properly," Geri encouraged. "We are all the same here, with connected lives." Loki's eyebrows jumped up to his hairline. The magic the rangers used was their own, kept guarded against abuse. Whatever ritual was used to pass it from one to another was a secret that connected them, and Loki knew no more about it than any other outsider.

"I don't know what you mean," he admitted.

"Look outside yourself. We know you can. The forest felt you playing in it, and carried word to us of our new family," Geri insisted.

"You already know how," Freki assured him with less mysticism. "Just try to do it."

Loki blinked at them, surprised, but then took a breath to center himself. He reached out with the wild spell he'd been guided to by that ridiculous music and yoga book. It came slowly, shy and shrinking under the intense scrutiny. The stones beneath him were not the void he expected from his earlier experiments, but glowing with thick cords of natural seidr as if alive. He could feel where his magic had helped pull up the small roots from the seams between the stones smoothly, and the places where the largest roots had cracked into them and made the job a greater chore. There was unbroken bedrock at the center and for the first few steps. The rings of stones that made up the higher steps must have been quarried nearby, but they still fit together well despite the toll time and neglect had taken. He could see through the earth and moss where the cracks left by plants and freezing water could be easily encouraged to close and where he might have to find a bit of something to smooth a gap. Loki felt hands on his arms and blinked his eyes open.

"Our newest family, did you learn this living magic from someone we can thank, or did it come to you on its own?" Geri asked kindly.

"I taught myself," Loki said with all honesty. "I hadn't realized it was the same magic you used. The point was investigating my own magic's nature."

"You were playing, like a curious child, and found something of great value in a moment of struggle," Freki suggested. The older man closed his blue eyes in thought. From this distance Loki could see the slightest edge of silver in his hair, hidden among the sun-bleached highlights. "That is much how I did it, stumbling while having a bit of fun and falling off a bridge. I breathed in the magic after nearly drowning in the river, and then the rangers came to greet me and tell me to keep the knowledge close. When I was old enough they came back and asked if I would run with them. My life before seems so dull and distant, but I have not forgotten what it was to be a blacksmith's son."

"I was born to a ranger," Geri offered in counter-point, "but I remember the day I first connected to another life. It was a hard winter, bad enough some of us went to King Bor for fear of starving. My mother brought us to a cave and helped us to join together in sleep, instead. It is much like the King's Sleep, but we did not have such a strong wellspring to feed off as the Palace provides. We slept through the cold, and though we woke hungry we still had strength enough to gather Spring's first berries. She died for us, but that was her choice. The magic had even burnt her to ash and taken her to Valhalla while we slept under her protection." The pair looked at Loki expectantly. He discarded the token condolences his life in the palace bred into him and answered in kind instead.

"It was music, and curiosity," Loki offered. "I wondered what the natural state of my magic was, what it would do if I used it in its raw form, but I couldn't break the training I'd had. They probably started teaching me to control it before I'd learned to talk. I found some music and distracted myself with it - just as a repetitive sound I could lose myself in - and went camping. I played a little, balancing on my hands and relaxing near the river, before sitting down to call up my magic. It was only when I accidentally fell asleep with my magic raised that it finally worked."

"You did not need anything at the time?" Freki asked. "You were not afraid or hurt? No turmoil or desperation?"

"I had recently pulled a geas off myself, but I had some time to begin healing and was not in such a desperate situation as you described," Loki admitted.

"To break the barrier between yourself and the rest of the living is not something easily done. I doubt that was when you first did it, if it came to you in sleep," Geri mused. "What is your magic, then, since that is the question you put to yourself?"

"It is like me," Loki smiled. They smiled back at him, for of course the life energy of one's own being would be kin to their personality. "It caused a bit of stir and mischief, bothered a bee's hive into giving chase and curiously gathered information from whatever it touched."

"You broke this barrier long ago," Freki assured him. "Perhaps in some desperate moment while in another realm, where the whispers of it could not reach us. Some time when you needed badly, and then you suddenly gathered reserves of strength and did not have the time to think of how."

"I can think of a dozen such times from my conscription alone," Loki sighed. There were even more times during his personal travels through Yggdrasil.

"It would have been the first such moment. It can save your life if you are badly wounded and given peace with which to recover," Geri warned, "but do not rely on it. It is the wild, and you are just as subject the whims of nature around you as the grass and the trees. You are open, as are all rangers even when they do not run with us. It is a barrier taken for granted by those who still have it, and so is not often targeted maliciously, but it is a soft spot in your hide that might be hit accidentally."

"That is the downside," Freki sighed, "but on the whole, it is a boon. You have an open channel to Yggdrasil's light, and it will leave you more sensitive to her light in positive ways as well. We can teach you to track and scout with this magic. Hunt with us this year, we welcome you."

"Thank you, that is an honor, but my hunt this week is for the realm. I must take my place as Prince; there is no choice in that, and I would not turn from my duty if I could," Loki demurred.

"We did not say you had to give that up," Geri soothed, smiling at him as if he was a puppy given to her to train into a hunting hound. "You will present your kill to the Temple as you must, but we would like you to spend some hours with us and learn when you can. When do you go with your brother into the forest?"

"Thursday, as always," Loki answered.

"Then we can give you some guidelines before then, and I will meet you in the wood," Freki stated. "I would have liked a month with you, but none of the three of us is without responsibility. This is the most we could arrange on short notice."

"Can you stay after, or meet me another time?" Loki asked.

"Certainly, another time, but we could not stay beyond this week. We have too much to do before the lean days begin," Geri apologized. "We will certainly find time for it soon."

* * *

Loki bid the pair farewell and finished his journey to Eldred Hall. He was still a bit early for his scheduled meeting and put his horse away with care. Sigfried met him while he was brushing her and offered to show him around the work site. There was a bit of paint and wallpaper still going up, but the structural issues were all done with. The damaged, blocky trim and garish colors in the front room had been replaced with a far more refined design. Overall, Loki had gone for a light and airy feel. The walls were being covered with a pleasant cream-on-tan fabric that reminded Loki of wheat fields and glimmered subtly in the sunlight where it had been finished. The wooden floor, where it could be seen around the covering protecting it from dripped glue and grubby work boots, gleamed with a rich dark polish. Once the furniture was in place it would be a fine place to welcome guests, and Sigfried assured him it would be done and ready to decorate before his men left in the evening.

While his apartment in the palace had been lit by scattered fairy lights mimicking the night sky, in Eldred Hall the lights were fashioned into orderly globe sconces on the walls and the occasional task light. His colors would eventually be reflected in the rugs and furniture rather than the building itself. For now, the construction had been hurried along by a limited palette of materials, so the repaired areas were all quite similar. Flat cream plaster covered the walls where faded wallpaper or chipped stonework used to be, and all the floors had been sanded and stained with the same dark finish that easily covered any flaws or quick patches. The design of the kitchen was minimalist as his new chef requested, and the room was now deliciously clean with smooth dark stone and utilitarian metal surfaces.

The Master suite was perfect. It was at the very top of the building, a once grand fourth floor conservatory jutting up out of the roof line that had been in enough disrepair from neglect that a full reconstruction was necessary. Loki hadn't originally preferred the lofty location for his private chambers, but the issue of time had altered his plans. A proper roof and some strong pillars replaced the dingy greenhouse glass once the rickety walls and malfunctioning plumbing was ripped out, with a prayer of thanks that the leaks hadn't affected the floor below beyond a few water spots on the ceiling. The original glass doors and a couple of the floor to ceiling windows that led onto a small wrap-around veranda had been restored and draped in suitable curtains in the sitting area that filled the gap between the stairs and the new wall containing his bedroom door. The rest of the walls had been rebuilt solidly and the overlapping pattern of tumbling gold and green leaves he'd selected was just as he'd hoped it would be. The fine fabric wallpaper was more expensive than any of the other materials, an unexpectedly perfect fit to his taste available in limited quantity off the shelf, but so very worth it. The furniture was stained so dark it was nearly black, all with comfortable cushions and gently curved frames similar to the furnishings that remained in his old apartment. A thick rug woven by his mother followed him from the palace, the familiar pattern welcoming him home.

The bathroom was brushed nickel with blue-gray stone which he'd been talked into when the bolder marbled stone he'd liked wasn't available in less than a year. The shower was also something he'd had to be convinced to have built. Showers were for the barracks and the training grounds, utilitarian and no better than the freshening spells he knew, but apparently some people didn't think a bathroom was finished unless it had one. At least he'd gotten the plumber to use river rocks for it, so it looked more like a large water feature in the corner than what it was. He would miss his old bathtub in the palace for sentimental reasons, but taking a tub was too silly to suggest aloud. This new one was the same light gray stone as the floor, it's bottom edge rounded to blend into the large tiles as if it and the floor were sculpted from one enormous piece. He couldn't find the seams, marveling aloud at the skill of the men who laid it down.

It was all great work and only slightly behind schedule. Sigfried got right back to it, making sure the men he'd hired earned their extra Saturday pay and got it done before sundown. Loki would have no trouble sleeping here tonight, even though he had to do for himself for a little while. Sven, his sister, and her husband were remaining in the palace to take care of their own lives and an attend the Temple, and unless they wanted to camp out in unfurnished rooms during the festival the rest of his staff would have to wait to follow. They had all done a fine job preparing for the move, and none of them had objections to leaving the palace when given the choice. He wouldn't begrudge any of his servants the chance to enjoy the holiday when he was so pleased. Before he left the palace, he had given the lot of them four days of their choice off during the Festival with a fine meal's worth of extra coin. When there had been arguments over the first day of the festival he'd skipped the negotiating and told them to go have fun, as he'd be too busy to need them on that day anyway. They hesitated, but he promised he would not starve to death if they left him alone for one day.

He cast spells to get rid of and keep away the dust from the construction and put away some of the bits and bobs he'd brought. He spotted a box containing carefully packed books and started arraigning them. The built-in shelves he'd designed for the library on the second story would not be ready for some time, and most of the building was simply clean and empty space for now, repaired where needed and whitewashed all over. The furniture that was salvageable was generally piled up in bunches under large tarps out of the way of the painters. Until more rooms were finished he would have to pick carefully what he used his suite's valuable shelf space for, and the books were easy enough to fetch out of the boxes. He moved on to a box of things he'd had on display in his front room. A small statue of a horse his Mother gave him went on the mantle of the small fireplace, as did some magical curiosities from his travels.

Now that the blocked off rooms had been unsealed and cleaned it was obvious that the Hall was far, far bigger than Loki needed. Fifteen guest bedrooms was enough to open a busy bed and breakfast; he and his small staff would be rattling around in their over-sized case for a while before they settled into place. It shouldn't be too hard to have guests over regularly. There were plenty of people who would take the distance from the throne as cue to relax, and if he hosted the right mix of gossips from time to time he could have the double benefit of getting word out that guests were welcome and keeping his fingers in the political drama of the palace.

The sounds of the workmen below stilled while they went down the hill for lunch. The Hall fell so completely silent it set Loki's nerves on edge. There was no bustling city outside and no sway of leaves on the clear-cut grounds. The birds and other wild things had fled the bang of hammers and he was too far up the hill to hear the horses or the wind in the grain. He pulled open a window, but there was nothing but an ankle-high lawn of bright grass stretching down the hill to the ripening fields below. He could just see the amphitheater in the edge of the window, it's bowl partially behind the curve of the land on the far edge of the oblong hill. This wasn't something he wanted to celebrate, which was why he told everyone who invited him to dinner tonight that he might not come and then left the palace. Moving here was simply good sense and a head-start on the inevitable.

Loki closed the window and went down to the stable. His mare met him at her stall's gate, thinking they would be riding back, but he just pet her a bit. The heavy silence would be gone when the servants came, it was just the one night he'd be completely alone. He felt utterly unlike himself, standing in a stable playing with his horse because his bedroom was too quiet. He ate the packed lunch he'd taken from the palace for want of anything else to distract himself with. Perhaps he could find a way to mount the wind chime Amora gifted him last century that wouldn't drive him nuts, or else put it far enough away from his window that it didn't clang in his ear all the time. That assumed he could find the box the silly thing had been packed into. He'd displayed the intricate wind chime under a dome cover to keep it silent when he'd first got it, but put it away in favor of the next defused prank gift she'd given him. He hadn't actually laid hands on it for some time.

The workmen were coming back up the hill by the time he finished eating. The distant sound of men at work was better than the sound of them in the next room, and he decided to walk back down to the amphitheater and get more done there. He took extra care now that he knew how charged the space had become, though part of him wanted to strip off all the soil and read the runes as soon as possible. He hadn't the faintest idea how the meeting place had become a magic circle, and there was no official record of the amphitheater being there despite being well within the property line. The stunted trees growing in the shallow dirt that had gathered on top of it didn't give any clear indication of how long it had been neglected, but the depth of the soil burying it suggested it was much longer than he had been alive. He'd just finished with a tree as thick as his wrist when he heard someone approaching.

Four rangers came into view when he stood to look. He greeted them, and they offered to help him with the brier. He'd worked inward from the edges and left the center section for last as it was the worst job. While the gnarled trees dug into the edges where their larger roots could be better sustained by reaching beyond the stone, a thick patch of thorns sat right in the middle subsisting on the centuries of dirt and rotted plant matter that had built up and flattened the large amphitheater into the gentle depression he'd originally thought it was. It stood as tall as he did, and was more than twice again as wide. Even after pulling up the vines and bushes around it he could see no unguarded route to the main stems. The rangers, three men and a woman, took turns with him holding the branches still while they slowly cut it back in careful segments.

The suns were sinking low in the sky when they finished gathering the debris and stacked it neatly against the nearest of the trees that ran up the untended side of the hill. The earth was torn up by the work, smelling fresh and fertile like the best fields. The five of them were nearly covered in enough of it to start sprouting leaves of their own. They invited him back to their camp for a dip in the river followed by some hot food, and Loki happily agreed. One of the men suggested taking some of the thin green wood back to their camp to use as wicker, but there was some doubt as to how glad the older women would be to receive it. Since Loki had to check in with Sigfried anyway, the Rangers decided to just tell the women there was an abundance of material available for wickerwork and hope that they weren't the ones tasked with fetching it. Loki made a quick check to see that everything was in order and spoke briefly with Sigfried as he ensured all his men and tools were packed into a wagon, the workmen giving an appraising look at the evidence of hard labor Loki wore. He paid them for the completed work, his front room looking tidy with the basic furnishings in place even if the walls still smelled of drying glue and the entryway still had protective paper covering on it. They had gone the extra mile and stacked the relevant boxes in a corner for the servants to unpack. Once the paint dried completely two guest rooms could be quickly set up, the repaired and sanitized furnishings currently crowded together way from the walls. Their first use would be by his other servants as they filtered in and out over the next weeks getting their apartments at the back of the building properly outfitted, and he left a note posted in the back hallway informing the staff which rooms were ready as a reminder.

The Ranger camp was a collection of quickly assembled wooden shelters and tents of all sizes. More of them were steadily arriving by horse and foot, dotting the roads through Loki's hold in twos and threes. The Rangers he'd worked with met him near the entrance and they spent the last of the summer daylight swimming and lounging in the cool water. They talked of what they had seen on the road until the scent of fresh cooking lured them back to the camp. Freki called him over to sit near him, launching into talk of scouting and tracking spells that others quickly joined as if it were perfectly normal for men to talk of magic. They fed him in thanks for the use of his land, and he listened respectfully to the offered knowledge in turn.

They talked for long hours by the campfire. The magic wasn't terribly complex, but that gave Loki trouble. It worked on a more primal level, and Loki had been so strictly trained that most of the paths seidr took through his body were refined and specialized. The nebulous spell he'd managed before was nearly all he could do with this strange new magic. He'd woven so many of his spells internally, allowing him to work easily without any props while making them a part of himself. Many were merely pieces he activated in different ways, modular segments he was able to finish or alter of the moment. There was little space left for the sweeping nets of woven energy and aura this branch of magic used. Still, the theory and methods were good to know. He could make hard choices about what spell components he might move to a talisman or other bauble when he had more time to dwell on it. For now, he'd work with what he had.

Freki's reasoning that this was his land and he could sleep wherever he pleased on it was tempting. Geri adding that the journey to Gladsheim was nearly the same when one considered the curves in the road nearly convinced him to set up his tent. In the end, the dirty-blond huntress who helped him clear away the brier made the best argument when she pulled the ribbon from her messy braids and tied it to his sleeve. She liked to share a tent with her best friend, and there was room in the middle for him to get comfortable.


	16. A Sunday Morning Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki hasn't been too pleased with Thor lately.

A silent alarm woke him at a set time, his body warmly sandwiched between two lean women. He debated waking them and not leaving the tent for a while, but there were the first hints of light in the sky and he needed to get to the Temple before things started without him. He woke them enough to thank them and vanished his pile of clothing. He set out at a trot, stretching his four legs as the first dawn brightened the sky. He was a Shire horse, or near enough to one, and his long feathered legs covered distance well. The white markings and steely coat were a nice change, he'd hate for all his furry shapes to be flat black. He'd still been a wiry foal when he'd become a horse before, and the sheer power this solid body developed inspired him to charge into a gallop. He jumped the fence into the ranch easily and took a shortcut up to Eldred Hall through it. The fence on the other side was more difficult, and he shrunk down to a dog to fit under it instead. He popped back up to a horse on the other side, confusing a young farm boy into spilling his pail of water. Blinking back to his own skin while behind a hedge he laughed out an apology in an understandable voice before tearing off again, hooves thundering on the hardened dirt road.

Loki circled the building, rearing and dancing in the cool morning air. His mare came out of her shelter into the small paddock attached to the barn to whinny at him, her smaller frame bolting around a ball as if to ask him to come play with her. On a schedule or not, he'd woken early enough and gotten back up the hill so fast he had a bit of time to deliberate. Perhaps he'd run all the way to Gladsheim and dress there. He felt so strong, his jumps were high for a draft breed, and with how often he felt small and fragile next to the other members of the warrior class it was wonderful to run around as a huge thumping wall of muscle and speed.

"Whoa, there, easy boy," Thor's voice startled Loki, his cutting remark on the proper way to announce one's presence coming out as an angry whinny. The man looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, Fandral's rumpled form behind him. He'd only just spared a thought to where Hogun was when his eyes caught a bit of motion. He bucked in time to avoid being roped and became a dog. Then, while they were all staring dumbly at him he became a pixie. The bright glow obscured his naked body while the humanoid mouth let him speak.

"A fine way to say hello, brother, and what are you doing in my house when I am not in it?" Loki asked them. It came out squeaky and small. He was shrunk down past the size of his own hand. He fluttered his wings, lifting off unsteadily. He was further irritated by not being able to enjoy his first attempt at real flight.

"Loki? Why are you a pixie?" Thor asked. Sif came out from behind the bush where she'd been ready to help catch the 'runaway' horse. "Why were you a horse?"

"Of course it's me! I am a pixie because I don't have to worry about my lack of clothing like this. I was a horse because I wanted to run up the hill. Now, your turn, why are you here?" Loki rattled off as he struggled to lift off.

"You disappeared. The servants said you had come here, and we couldn't find any of yours left in the palace, but then you didn't come back before sundown. When we found the house dark, the baker said he saw you talking with rangers and would be home again before long. What happened? Where are your clothes?" Thor asked.

"You called on the baker well after sunset Saturday night before a festival week? I do hope you thanked him well," Loki squeaked. This was intolerable. He spun his hands and found he could pull things from his storage even at this size. The ribbon the huntress gave him appeared in his tiny hands, spilling out far longer than he currently was tall. He spun around so it wrapped him, awkwardly trapping his fluttering wings for a moment and ending with it looped over his shoulder. "There, do I need to give you a play-by-play of my every move, or does this answer your questions? I'm going upstairs, and don't think I am not upset you broke into in my home while no one was here to let you in."

"We had to check for foul play," Fandral argued.

"The securely locked door and dark windows should have been clue enough, or you could have gone to the ranger camp and asked after me," Loki squeaked back, fluttering in a completely dignified way thank you very much, his ribbon trailing after him amid sparkles of green and gold pixie dust as he darted through the door. At least Thor had used a key charm to override Loki's spells instead of Mjolnir. The single-use emergency charm was tedious to craft, but better that then dealing with a heap of splinters in a broken door-frame.

"You know Rangers don't let outsiders into their camps," Sif scoffed. Was she jealous? Served her right.

"They could have fetched me," Loki dismissed, jumping on the door latch at the top of the stair and zipping through into the second story. He was fighting with the round doorknob blocking his way to the third story when they caught up with him. Thor opened it, nearly dumping him on the floor before Loki resumed fluttering.

"You mean they would have told us what girl caught your eye, and we'd have been all night chasing you down," Thor huffed. "It was late enough we thought you'd be along shortly, and your mare was here."

"No, I mean they would have fetched me. Where did you sleep?" Loki asked when he realized the doors to the upper floors had only opened because the wards recognized his pixie form. He'd activated them when he'd locked the front door last night, the upper floors used a variation only Mother and Father knew how to open, and the only physical key he'd made so far was with Sven. At least he could still be the first to sleep in his own bed.

"One of us kept watch on rotation, I slept in a servant's room, and the others bedded down in a room near the front hall with a thick rug when it was their turn," Sif explained as they climbed the last set of stairs. "Until the sound of a wild horse galloping woke us." Loki fluttered into his private chambers to land on a chair, looking at them expectantly.

"Well?" he asked. They looked confused. "This ribbon isn't going to hide anything when I am myself again. Go clean up your mess and get out, I'll be along in a moment."

 The four of them scuttled away and he was free to get himself ready. All the extra time he thought he'd had from waking early and galloping through pastures was gone now, as Thor was not even bathed let alone properly clothed for the ceremony. He drug a comb through his windswept hair and slicked it back. He wove the ribbon through the open lattice in his jacket's left sleeve, keeping the tails of it tucked in so it wasn't too obvious what the rough linen ribbon was. In short order he was perfectly tidy for the Temple service, covered from his high collared tunic down to his wrists and ankles as was proper. He slipped into formal boots and after a moment of hesitation added a hand-sized bit of fabric to his left shoulder with all his medallions embroidered on it. Mother had given him this new sash with a proper Journeyman Healer's medallion on it after Eir spoke with him about having saved a new-born in some detail and deemed him worthy of the honor, the larger seal sharing pride of place with the complicated Master of Battle Magic medallion at the top. The more acceptably masculine Apprentice medallions he'd collected were bumped lower than he usually had them arraigned by this, but it would be far more improper to put the lesser seals above a full Journeyman's medallion than it had been with his Army Healer seal. Mother had made it very clear when she gave the sash to him that he had a right to be proud of all his achievements, and those with a problem with his path of study were not his concern.

"So, now that we are all dressed, why did you think I needed finding again?" Loki asked when he was back down on the ground floor. The room the men had bedded down in had been tidied well enough, the box of decorative pillows they had found and ransacked was inexpertly repacked and a fur rug left unrolled in front of the cold hearth. He hadn't had a solid plan for the odd space adjoining the front hallway; for now, it was just where all his hunting gear with the related trophies and artwork had landed. Looking at all of it assembled next to the rustic hearth he might just skip having any hunting trophies in his front room at all. Now that it was clean and the rental office desk removed, the wide pocket doors leading in from the foyer and dining hall made this a nice display space when left open as they were. Add necessary side tables, chairs, and a bit of clever staging and it would become a private place for two or three men to share a drink when the doors closed.

"Loki?" Thor poked him.

"Oh, sorry, I just decided what to do with this room. You were saying?"

"We've not seen much more than the tail end of your coat the last few weeks," Thor repeated. As Loki expected, he was still wearing the sleeveless clothes he'd slept in, though now they all had light armor on as well. "You were barely in the palace at all, and then you disappeared completely."

"Yes, Thor, I am moving out. 'Tis a sizable task, as I must uproot my servants lives as well and they need time to put their own private affairs in order. That is why they were not available - they all have today off and were likely making the most of their time after I set out as well. There is also all the back and forth over what is being repaired and what is being sold and where or to whom and how," Loki rambled.

"You aren't supposed to leave until the end of the Festival," Thor insisted.

"Functionally," Loki shrugged. "I still needed to be here often and for long hours to see the work done. I'll be spending this week much as I said I would. The skilled trades don't work this week, they attend the same sort of rituals as the highborn and have family traditions to pass on knowledge to the next generation at this time. Freki was telling me of them a little last night, from his boyhood as a blacksmith's son."

"Wait, you were with the Ranger leaders last night?" Fandral asked, going a little cross-eyed. "Is that ribbon from their woman leader?"

"They might not do marriage the same way we do, but Freki would tear a strip out of me if I tried all the same, assuming Geri didn’t do it first," Loki laughed. "No, she was a huntress far closer to my own age."

"You were welcome in their camp?" Hogun asked.

"I am a man who does magic," Loki shrugged mysteriously. "Did you ever consider that my choices on this path are not to be ergi or to be unique? As Sif has always been so eager to point out, my path is not as unprecedented as hers. Then again, she has Vanir blood. The Valkries may be history long past, but a woman warrior is not so unprecedented a thing."

"But, you can't live here as a ranger!" Thor bellowed.

"Of course I can. To be a ranger is to know their magic, and I have had that many long years now," Loki said simply, beaconing them to follow him out the door so he could lock up. The stable hand would be here later on to check on the place. He had to fix up the wards so his key would work on the servant's entrance and Sven's would work on this one, which was going to take time. He would have to wait to eat until lunch at this rate.

"No you haven't," Sif accused. He pulled her bodily out of the doorway and shut it so he could get to work.

"Shows what you notice of me," Loki groused and focused on repairing the hole the emergency key left in the wards. It was quite tedious. When they didn't stop pestering him he explained further, his mouth running while he focused on the task at hand. "I have been through the required test of determination and emerged from life's trials standing strong ages ago. It is not like they give out medallions, we simply know each other by feel of magic." It was deliciously wonderful how well the secret hid in plain sight. If you already knew what the 'test' was, it made perfect sense. It was much like the secret of where all the 'hidden' Jotun women were. Once you knew the truth, it was obvious. "Not all who do so run with them. I could, if I wanted, but that isn't a life for a scholar. A stick-hut shaman can gather great wisdom, but could not maintain a library. Their hunters own only what they can carry. I wouldn't mind hunting with them more frequently, it is a wondrous experience, and some of them have learned to take an animal shape. I am not unlike them, for all that I prefer a more civilized environment day to day."

"That doesn't explain where your clothes went," Fandral needled.

"I pocketed them rather than tear them apart. You did see the size of me as a horse, didn't you?" Loki chuckled, glad for the change in topic. "I'd burst all my seams!" His mare was still romping around, irritating the other horses with her morning cheerfulness. They were not as well rested, and her game of 'run around the ball like a deranged bee about a flower' was being ignored.

"Why a horse, and running about like a wild thing?" Sif asked.

"I thought I could get here with enough time to spare to have an un-rushed morning, but now I have had to spend time rebuilding my wards and we all must hurry to get the lot of you back to Gladsheim in time to be polished up for the Temple ceremony," Loki huffed. "As for the horseplay, it was fun. Some time when I am not so pressed, I'll have to time my mile. It was a wonderful morning run." Loki's mare calmed down as soon as she saw him with the saddle, though she was eager to be out of the pen. She kept sniffing at him and the ground where he'd been as a horse while he waited on the others to mount up. She was clearly a bit confused about things, but she was too well trained not to respond immediately when he gave her direction.

"You were a big horse," Hogun assessed. "Steely, black mane, white feathers, and built strong. Made an intimidating war horse, or maybe a draft. Mark like a U on your face in white, with a faint black saddle-mark."

"Thank you, I had wondered how I looked," Loki said. "The perspective changes wildly with the different eyes, and there is only so much I can see short of conjuring a mirror to look." Loki started the ride back to the city, slowing a bit when he realized exactly how tired the other horses were.

"You could have told us you were a Ranger, you know," Thor started up after they had been on the road a while. "Even if part of not running with them is keeping that close."

"I passed the initial requirements unknowingly, and then it was no longer news by the time they caught up with me and did their end. Besides, I have not received any specialized training beyond that first trial, though my methods ring true. Honestly, what do you call my sorcery when we are questing together? Parchment from hides for map-making on the spot when we are lost or in uncharted territory, nearly all of my travel magics if you take a broad sight of things, and even down to how I hunt. You know I don't take more than I expect to need from the forest as I go along," Loki pointed out.

Loki supposed his respect for the Rangers had been coloring his behavior before now even if he hadn’t considered himself one of their kind. Their prohibition on trophy hunting would exclude him from some of Thor's hunting trips, but then Thor invited him along rather infrequently for those trips as it was. Killing beasts for sport was something many warriors vaunted as proof of courage and Rangers disdained as wasteful. Unless one had need of such meat and furs or the animal was a danger for some special reason it was not considered proper hunting. Then again, that might be more relief than bother. The barrier between a ranger's seidr and the ambient wild magic was thinner than other types of mages, save perhaps those that corrupted themselves in dark ritual, and they sometimes felt the loss of life at the end of a hunt. Once he started using their magic more often and deliberately those side effects would amplify, and it was blind luck he hadn’t fallen afoul of that since he began ignorantly playing about with it. Loki had known some of the guidelines they lived by and vaguely understood why they were in place before. Now that he understood them better he realized he was likely to act that way regardless unless he had a very pressing reason not to, and then they were only guidelines and not laws after all. He wasn't actually giving up anything.

"You still could have said," Thor insisted.

"I am not the bag where you keep your brain, brother, and you are not so dull as to need my telling you every little detail of the realm," Loki snapped.

"Why are you so angry all the time?" Thor snapped back. "You have been a lit fuse for ages and now you are avoiding me!"

"Thor, not everything in the realm has to do with you. If fact, many of the things I have done in the last few months could not be related to you by even the wildest tangent," Loki argued.

"Then don't snap at me," Thor countered.

"Then use your brain more often, so you don't make things worse on me than they need to be!" Loki shot right back. "I have a mind to let my mare run as she wants, and see you when your tired horses catch up."

"Don't you dare," Thor warned.

"Why, because you do not want to be late on your own, even though you are the one at fault for the hour it took me to rebuild my wards this morning? You know I am busy and you are upset that I am not immediately available whenever it gets into your head to go do something at the last moment. I am not avoiding you, I have work!" Loki ranted. "Hard work for hours yesterday, and nothing to break my fast this morning because you couldn't be bothered to _ask our Father_ a question."

"What? What would I ask Father about?" Thor stumbled.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the two of you can found a formal club where you sit about for hours thinking of ways to make my life more stressful," Loki quipped. "Volstagg would join, and I'm sure Amora would have several members in mind for the Ladies’ Auxiliary meetings."

"He ordered you to do something?" Thor said slowly, stupidly.

"Heimdall! Ravens! Hlidskjalf! Mother! Not to mention the servants, my friends, the merchants I have been doing daily business with, the Mage Guard, the guards in the Royal Apartments… Thor I daresay you are the only person in the whole fucking city who did not know that I was fine!" Loki ranted.

"One of five," Hogun admitted. "I had assumed that you were properly unreachable by normal means when Prince Thor said you had gone missing. You have my apology."

"You do not get to excuse him, Lord Hogun. Nor is your apology to me appropriate in the slightest as I am _not_ the one you failed. Thor could have been bewitched," Loki scolded, keenly aware of what he needed to do to ready Thor for the throne. The more angles he could shoot from the more likely he'd hit the target. "My brother is the one you failed, when you chose to follow him on this fool’s errand so close to a time when he must be in Gladsheim! That goes for all four of you. You could not have missed how wrong-headed this was."

"It is not a big deal," Fandral defended. "Thor was worried about you. Obviously, you were fine. Now we get back to the city and take our places."

"You make it sound like this was your plan from the start, to spend the night in my home with me being merry, but then I was not where I should have been and so this morning's drama is my fault. Yet, none of you thought to bring your good clothes or camping supplies with you. My own chambers and a couple of the servant’s private rooms were the only places without wet paint or a lack of furnishings when I locked up, and there has not yet been one crumb of food in the new kitchen," Loki sighed, but pressed on. "Even still, just spending the night in my company was not your aim. I have eyes to see what you did bring with you: weapons and armor fit to drive off a tough opponent. You assumed this was a rescue mission needing such things."

"What else should we have brought, then, besides good clothes so we could save time dressing and then have me ride side-saddle at a snail's pace all the way in," Sif snapped.

"I was not under seige by bandits, and that fact could have been very easily verified. You should know full well the exact nature of the bug that has crawled under my skin. Do you want to know what I would have preferred? How about the book of rhymes Brelyna had sent to me, all of them farcical and having to do with decorating a house? Or you could have done like Alec, who thought I was spending too much time by myself and brought a book to read to himself while I was doing my translation work in the Library? Or Geri and Freki who were worried I would overwork myself yesterday and sent others to help me in my tasks since they were too busy overseeing the arrivals to stay with me themselves?" Loki suggested. "All of those were great helps to me, and for the last months none of you have been any help at all."

"I asked you to come to the tavern more than once," Thor pointed out.

"Oh, yes, because I love getting drunk and have so much free time to be wine-sick," Loki spat sarcastically. "Not to mention that all your invitations were made only if you crossed paths with me while you were on your way out that moment, so I was always already expected elsewhere or in the middle of something I could not immediately drop. You have accepted the revelation that I am a changeling with grace, or I thought you had, but after that every single thing you have done has been more harm to me than help. Even when we traded days at court, I only ended up with more work to do because it got you half-involved with Alec's promotion. You didn't bother looking to see if I'd bowed out dramatically after making my point, you just assumed I'd never been invited into the room. Do you know what that made me look like? Do you know how that opinion now colors the memory of my actions, turning me from a man in the right and defiant against slander, to a child having a tantrum? Don't even get me started on the horrific mess you made of your desk or how Father came down on me like it was _my fault_ you had papers six months overdue. I was embarrassed enough to have been delayed coming home a day too long, and even then, I had extreme circumstances."

"I… None of that has anything to do with this," Thor insisted.

"Yes, it does, Thor. It goes to the heart of it all," Loki lamented. "I would have rather spoken to you Thursday before last. I was told you took an entire cohort to a tavern instead of being where you had promised to be. In any case, you shall now have to figure it out for yourself." Thor finally got it, his jaw hanging open as his offense finally clicked.

"What was Thursday two weeks ago?" Fandral asked.

"Nothing worth remembering, apparently," Loki snapped and kicked his horse into a gallop. She left them all in the dust and thought it was great fun.


	17. Fulfilling Obligations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin does something right.

Loki was early enough to buy a small pastry and some juice from a street merchant profiting off people who were also running too late for a proper breakfast on his way to the Temple. He ate it quickly and carefully so he didn't cover his good clothes with sticky crumbs amid a small crowd of equally hurried commoners that looked just as harassed as he felt. Mother was in the waiting room already when he finally got to the temple and he embraced her warmly. When she asked after Thor he'd vaguely assured her that Thor was on his way. He peeked out from where he waited to be announced, the thick crowd of people dressed in their Temple clothes causing a twist in his gut. He was a man on his own now, with his own house. That was a big change, and in a way he'd be making first impressions all over again this week. He was a Thane as well as a Prince now, second-born but Lord of his own lands, and he wasn't completely sure how that would play out.

"Where is Thor?" Odin asked as he entered the antechamber, the green mantle he wore to bless the hunters leaving the city this morning sliding off his shoulder, a servant taking it away as another held up a golden cloak to replace it.

"Loki said he was right behind him," Mother replied, concerned.

"His horse was looking poorly when I saw him last, but he shouldn't be much longer," Loki shrugged.

"His horse?" Mother asked before Odin had the chance to. "Why would you see him on a horse?" Loki made a careless gesture that showed off his left sleeve.

"He'd decided I was missing and went to go find me. In the end he slept on the floor amid the unfurnished mess that is Eldred Hall, all while I was elsewhere and in need of nothing. If I hadn't decided to stop at the Hall on my way back he'd still be there keeping watch with weapon drawn." Odin caught his sleeve, a his expression warring between pleased and angry.

"I see you still respect me enough to take my council," the old man observed.

"A huntress from the Ranger camp," Loki said quietly, not quite so bold as to brag loudly in front of his mother. "Her friend didn't mind letting me sleep in their tent."

"Two women?" Odin responded with raised eyebrow. "I suppose they wouldn't have the same reservations about that. They are a feral group, but that can be entertaining."

"It wasn't a hard-fought victory," Loki admitted. "A wolf scenting me as easy prey, but then I'd put myself in that position knowingly. If they brag it will be among their own."

"A step in the right direction," Odin observed. "Thor is not far behind you?"

"We quarreled over his assumptions, and over my avoidance of him," Loki shrugged. "My mare was fresh and his stallion had been ridden hard in the middle of the night, so I left him behind instead of shouting myself hoarse. Had I not already been dressed for the Temple I would have taken wing to get away from them."

"I told you to avoid Lady Sif, not your brother," Odin sighed.

"She is almost always with him. Besides, I'm quite cross with him right now for good reason," Loki answered.

"Why?" Mother prodded.

"We were supposed to meet Thursday before last, just the two of us over dinner. We had decided this was how we would keep close as brothers with all the changes in our lives demanding our time. I dined alone when the servants told me he'd forgotten and gone to a tavern with a cohort from the training grounds instead, a new tradition between us off to a great start," Loki huffed. "He had no right to be angry with me, and we all missed our morning meals while I re-did the ward spells he smashed."

"Didn't your servants feed you?" Mother asked.

"What servants? The stable boy lives with his mother at the bottom of the hill and was not yet to work, and all the rest of them are here in the city," Loki explained. "I took a packed lunch to oversee the last of the work yesterday. Even I wasn't there overnight, and was only there this morning to make use of the bathroom and dress." She pouted at him and ordered a handmaiden to find Loki some milk as there wasn't really time for anything else. She was still fussing over how much he ate even though he was back at his normal weight. Loki had just finished with the drink when Thor arrived in his Temple clothes. It was almost shocking to see him in such soft and fine clothing, though Mjolnir still hung at his belt as was proper. Mother tutted and Odin made it clear that there would be words after the Festival's opening ceremony.

Loki walked in when he was announced, kept his posture perfect, and bowed to the great Ash tree in the center of the Temple on cue. The King and Queen gave their blessings and moved off to the side. Both he and Thor renewed their vows to protect and serve Asgard, their voices clear as they spoke in turn as first and second Prince. The promise to provide a peaceful and prosperous realm for their people to live in rolled off his tongue without thought. When they brought back good meat from their hunt they would say the other half, that they had kept their promise and provided land abundant with food for the people. It was beautiful and symbolic, and the songs in the Temple were always pleasant. The ordained thanked them for their oaths and moved on to the less specific blessings. A line formed, the people of Gladsheim and it's surroundings coming up to different sides of the tree based on trade and station to renew their commitments and pray for a fruitful harvest. As the week wore on and the other rituals repeated it would get tedious, but he still liked the pageantry of it all. Honored guests came up to be blessed by the Royal family, one of the only other things about the day's service that would not be repeated through the week.

Loki greeted the visiting Thanes, saluted the generals, wished the craftsmen well, and generally moved smoothly through the necessary motions with clockwork precision. Thor was much the same, all warm-hearted words in the right places with a welcoming smile that threatened to out-shine the suns next to Loki's polite coolness. Cross or not, Loki could admit his brother cut an impressive figure. People flocked to his warmth. Thor meant every word as he wished the Thanes well, but today it only fanned Loki's anger. Every considerate comment only made the slight against him sting worse.

The opening ceremony concluded with a few more words from the King followed by a song. Then, they filed out to get lunch. Several servants in their normal drab clothing served the royal family in a private room. Sven, standing out in his best clothes, served Loki a small bun with an inexpertly crafted image of Yggdrasil on the top.

"Don't you have today off?" Loki asked him quietly.

"If I may be so bold to say, I am just checking on a friend on my way to the afternoon service with my family, my Lord," the man whispered. The new form of address as Sven's thane rather than a prince struck Loki hard. "He has had a difficult Summer. We baked him some quick bread this morning, as part of our family blessing."

"May your family have plenty through the winter," Loki acknowledged with a small smile, and the man bowed politely and left. Odin ordered all the servants to leave after all their drinks were poured.

"I said before I don't like that man," Thor started up before the servants had properly cleared out. "He treats you as if he is courting you."

"He does not," Loki protested, disgusted at the idea and upset that Thor would let something like that be overheard. "There is nothing wrong with a well-treated servant liking his master."

"I think it is good," Mother declared. "When establishing new leadership in a house the servants should either revere their master or be indebted to him. Loki's people are both, and they will take good care of him because of that. Until he has a wife to ensure he takes care of himself, that will be very important."

"What is more important for us to speak of, is that a quarrel between the two of you came very near to affecting your duties to the realm," Odin cut in. "Settle it, now."

"Loki disappeared," Thor defended. "I had to go looking for him."

"I did not disappear," Loki argued back. "You broke our engagement, and I did not have time to go chasing off after you to reschedule."

"I did not. That was for after you moved out," Thor protested.

"You agreed to the first Thursday of every month," Loki shot back, "because if we don't set aside a time to speak privately then we're both too busy even living in the same hallway. You didn't say the first Thursday after I moved to Eldred Hall, and we both know how to read a calendar."

"The whole conversation was about your leaving," Thor fought back. "Then you packed up and moved out a week ahead of time."

"I had to oversee the end of the work, and pay Sigfried. Those were talented tradesmen determined to keep their end of the contract, and not paying them before the holiday after all the extra hours they put in would have been insulting," Loki explained. "I knew when I had to be back, and I brought my Temple clothes in case I had to stay there the night."

"That isn't what you told your servants," Thor argued.

"I thought you said you couldn't find any of my servants?" Loki challenged. "I told them I might be there too late to bother coming back, but that was about getting a proper night's sleep and not about the whole week. If your servants only overheard part of the message they should have said they didn't know for certain, which is exactly what you claimed earlier. I still don't see why you came ready to break a siege."

"Well, I'd thought…" Thor mumbled.

"Speak up," Loki needled.

"I thought you might need the strength of a few blades behind you. Between the Rangers and the workmen, I thought you might have run afoul of someone on the road. It's not like they are all trustworthy people. For every five Rangers righteously dedicated to the land there is one opportunist just this side of a bandit," Thor declared. "You may have been taken by someone looking to get the workmen's pay for themselves."

"Slander against people I trust aside, if I'd been ambushed by some petty thief I'd have ended him," Loki assured. "Even then, you could have taken one moment to ask after me, to ask someone in a position to know and not people who had been in the same room with you all day, and known I was fine."

"Thor," Mother spoke up, "you know that Loki can take care of himself."

"When he is himself, yes," Thor argued. "You can't fault me for worrying over him when he is off-form." Loki tossed his knife, sticking it into the table next to Thor's arm.

"There is nothing off-form about my combat skills, brother," Loki seethed. "I did nothing unexpected yesterday. If you could stand to step away from all the ego-stroking sycophants that are clamoring around you these days and speak to me in private for five minutes you might avoid these misunderstandings."

"I ordered Loki to avoid Lady Sif's company," Odin spoke up suddenly.

"Why would you do that?" Thor sputtered.

"Because I don't like how Grandmaster Tyr has been acting lately. It sounds like he wants her married off soon, and with Loki setting up a household the opportunity is simply too easily taken advantage of. While both he and I know you think of her as a shield sister and nothing more, and in normal circumstance Loki is too smart to fall for such a simple manipulation, this is not normal circumstance," Odin turned to Loki. "You are off-form, though not at all in the way Thor thinks."

"Thor only ever thinks in martial terms," Loki dismissed.

"Sif and Loki?" Thor laughed. "I have never heard of anything so ridiculous." Loki set his teeth and looked down at his plate.

"This is serious, Thor," Mother chided. "Loki is no fool, but at this age and with all that is going on a certain type of woman has an advantage over him. It was better to keep him from her."

"Wait, she actually…?" Thor began to ask.

"No, Tyr did," Odin rumbled. "He set Loki up with his blessing, unreasonable expectations, and an opportunity to speak with her privately."

"It went as well as I could have reasonably expected," Loki added. "Though, it seems I set the bar a little too low for Mother's taste."

"He gave his blessing? How could he do that, when they have not been courting at all?" Thor asked.

"He's given up on her turning her attention from you on her own, and thought he could get to Loki," Odin shrugged.

"He did get to him, and Loki was courting her," Mother corrected. "Not that it would be a bad match if she honestly cared for Loki the way Tyr set him up to believe, but to abuse a young man's passions this way is terrible. Thor, we only asked Loki to step back from her after he had spoken with her quite earnestly, and we said nothing to Sif one way or the other. It was a test for her, and she failed. It has been a month. She has not sought Loki out to speak to him, has not even asked after him to any that could relay a message, and she ought to have answered him by now one way or the other. I won't have Loki fawn over a woman who cares so little for him when he could do much better." Loki looked at his mother carefully. Mother normally didn't pry into his life without telling him she'd nosed in, but she clearly knew more private details than Loki had given her during their talks. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised she'd been scrying for him given what happened that morning.

"You love Sif?" Thor asked him.

"Don't be thick," Loki countered, sounding like a completely believable denial to Thor. Neither of his parents bought it and it showed.

"Well, it isn't her fault, is it?" Thor defended. "Just don't court her, and tell Grandmaster Tyr he shouldn't act so dishonorably. Trying to manipulate Loki is a fool's errand."

"Oh, Thor, it isn't that simple," Mother soothed. "Your brother is just being stubborn, since he had been properly tricked into this and doesn't want to admit it. It isn't just that Tyr tried this, it is that it worked too well. Like I said, they would have been a good match. Loki wanted it to work, he might even have succeeded to some extent if we let him go ahead with his plans, but your Father and I can't condone this under the circumstances." She paused a moment to let that sink in properly. Loki supposed it was less pathetic than the full truth. "We don't blame Tyr all that much, either. He knew that Loki has had a soft spot for Sif since they were children, and thought he was doing your brother a favor by getting them together for a temporary fling. I doubt anyone involved realized how deep Loki's feelings for Sif could become, or how easily he'd fall."

"That's ridiculous," Thor dismissed.

"Brother, I would appreciate it if you took this a little more seriously," Loki sighed. "I will not enter a room if Sif is there. That it is an order from the crown only gives me an excuse I am not ashamed to admit in public. I don't want her to know there is any other reason for it."

"Loki," Odin warned.

"Sweetheart, you shouldn't do that to yourself," Mother said kindly. "Just let the door be closed properly."

"That does end it properly," Loki argued.

"No, that leaves her the opportunity to come to you instead," Odin supplied. Thor frowned, having not thought of the loophole so quickly.

"If she wanted…" Loki began.

"No," both his parents said, and Loki flinched back into his chair.

"Oh," Thor said. "I see. This is serious."

"Yes, and you ought to help your brother with this," Mother hurried to say. "The best way for you to do that is to leave her behind when you visit with him. Also, and this should be something I don't need to repeat so often, try not to flirt with any woman your brother is currently talking to."

"Yes, Mother, that isn't completely emasculating," Loki groaned.

"Thor needs to curb his behavior in this department as well," Mother needled. "If I could have the two of you swap fascinations I'd be happy."

"You want me to court Sif?" Thor blundered.

"I can and will coat all your undergarments in the most potent irritants I can find," Loki threatened.

"Loki, calm down," Odin admonished. "You know that is not what your mother means. It is Thor who should be looking for a woman of high quality to wed, while he still has time to do so unburdened by the crown. You would be best served to stick to the advice I gave you before for a time, and seek only casual pleasures."

"I have already accepted certain invitations," Loki replied. "If I am not here in the Temple or at related parties this week I will be with the Rangers. Freki is set on teaching me a few new things while he has the time. If the tour of the realm takes as long to get organized as it seems it will, then I will probably go running with him next summer. Perhaps I'll spare a month in winter for it instead, supposing Freki can, particularly if I need to make myself scarce for some reason."

"Ranger training?" Odin asked, clearly startled.

"Oh, that's marvelous!" Mother gushed. "I had wondered when they would approach you."

"When I was still officially in the running for the crown they wouldn't offer, but now that it has been publicly announced that Thor is the choice they are eager to teach me," Loki happily informed them. "I thought I had figured much of it out for myself, but there are additional nuances even to those skills I felt I'd mastered and whole categories I'd never imagined. I can't wait. It's fascinating to see magic used in such masculine terms. No offense to you, Mother, but the magic practiced here in the capital is so delicate and feminine that, well, the example of a man of magic no one would dare call womanly is something I've wished for most of my life. Even Tolfdir, though it is excused as a trait of his race, is derided as ladylike due to his dedication to magic. I thought I had washed out as a pampered nobleman when Freki refused to teach me before, but that couldn't be further from the truth. He just didn't want to steal me away from my duties before it was proper. He and Geri have been planning this for centuries." This was close enough to the full truth, as they also saw him as a bit too young to deliberately put him through a trial as they had planned to and were happy enough to begin now that he'd stumbled into the magic on his own.

"You won't go live with them, though," Thor said. "You said you wouldn't live that life."

"Of course not. Can you imagine me sleeping on bare ground and wearing rags for years on end by choice?" Loki scoffed. "I want to know their hunting and tracking magics, and use them on criminals or other threats to the realm." The rings on Gungnir clinked as Odin shifted his spear.

"Thor, Frigga, if the two of you are finished your meals I would like a word with my younger son," Odin proclaimed. They looked apologetic, but both left swiftly.

"Have I done something wrong?" Loki asked.

"You have had no man well versed in magic to look up to?" Odin asked.

"Well, no, not really. Magic is a crutch for old men and the weak, if you go by what I have been told so often by members of the court. Everyone among the peerage has gone to great lengths to make it clear my love for 'feminine' hobbies is distasteful. They tolerate it in foreigners because they are foreign, and if someone from the country wanted to teach me they would find no welcome here," Loki shrugged. Odin looked weary.

"I really have neglected you, haven't I?" he asked. Loki shifted uncomfortably.

"I understand that Thor is your chosen heir, and that you must spend more time with him because he must learn to take your place as King," Loki evaded.

"Thor asked me recently if it was true, that I do not speak with you privately more than once a season except to scold you over something. It pained me to hear, but I found that I could not deny it. He said you thought it was because I was disgusted by who and what you are," Odin said with obviously forced calm.

"Would you prefer I only speak of such things with Mother?" Loki asked.

"I would prefer you did not think them true in the first place," Odin countered. "I had not realized how little time I spent with you. You would eagerly throw yourself at some master of a craft and I thought that was what you preferred. It had not occurred to me that… you might be trying to replace me."

"I'm not sure I follow," Loki said. Odin lifted his hand and made two sharp gestures. The torches on the walls snuffed themselves, then were re-lit.

"You didn't even think to ask me to teach you, did you?" Odin asked sadly. "You just assumed the answer would be no, and so you asked for other masters of magic to be brought in. Loki, you are my son. If you had asked me…"

"I did," Loki protested, but couldn't recall an exact memory. A haze of half-forgotten days churned up from under centuries of mental dust. "I must have asked you well past when I should have have given up trying. I remember you telling me that boys should not spend so much time learning magic, or to stop reading and go to the training grounds."

"I remember you, when you were too small for such things, asking me questions and seeking to avoid your other lessons. After you proved yourself capable of handling such lessons, I should have made it clear that you could have come to me. I did not. I… I was offended, I suppose, that you had subverted me and found a way to learn it from another. Besides, basic healing and biology may be a foundational art used by many as a stepping stone to other magic specialties, but in practice it is primarily a woman's craft. I would have preferred you had other lessons as your foundation. Construction and physics, as I had," Odin admitted. "It does pain me that you trust me so little, now. That you and Thor suspected that a spell similar to the geas caused your younger brother's illness is intolerable. I would never knowingly put my own child's health in danger. I altered the geas from it's standard form, to be gentler and to suit you better. It should not have caused you any damage at all, and should have faded as you accepted this shape as your proper one."

"So it is not your doing, but some subconscious desire of mine to change my form that hurt me?" Loki asked sharply.

"Do not twist the facts around into harsher shapes when they are foul enough on their own. The spell was ill-suited to the task, and you know that I mistook your nature for something much harder to control and thought the assistance necessary," Odin offered. "Nor can you be blamed for instincts and physical needs you can't control. I miss how you were when you were small. You were calmer, more apt to simply sit and enjoy a pleasant moment. These days you keep yourself constantly in motion, frantically busy with this or that project, and it is never a good time to interrupt you. I saw how Frigga handled it, just the normal rebellion of a growing boy against his minders she called it as she lined up one activity after another for you, but I should have listened to my own instincts and gotten involved. Your restlessness always felt wrong to me, and I tried to get you to be still again as much as I could."

"I am not sure this can be repaired," Loki said tentatively.

"It has gone a long time since it was first broken, hasn't it?" Odin supplied. "I shall tell you something I have not told anyone else, then. You were never out of the running, until you took yourself out."

"What?" Loki laughed nervously. "That doesn't make sense."

"I could tell you didn't want it," Odin said as if it was the most obvious thing. "You talk of nothing so fondly as travel and research, and I would not make you so miserable as to chain you to a position that would rob you of those things. The position of vizier, please hear me out, is not as sudden an idea as you think it is. From that place you could travel to other realms and speak on Thor's behalf, and so continue the lifestyle you have created for yourself while you are still young enough to want it. Whenever you start your family, the position would grant them the right to remain here in the royal apartments even while you went on regular trips through the nine, though you would make them less often unless you want to risk being on my end of this conversation someday. In the very worst scenario, it would let you take the crown easily if your brother fell."

"You never mentioned any of that to me," Loki defended.

"As I said, I did not know how to handle your restlessness, and I let it drive me away instead of fighting it as I should have. Your mother has made that quite clear to me. If there is something about you I find unsettling it is your inability to be happy sitting still, and not your ability to change shape," Odin said with a helpless gesture. "You will abandon projects you worked on for months to go on one of your long walks, and then come back to them with tenacity as if leaving them was an inconvenience. I don't know where you got such flighty behavior."

"I have a theory. Is it true that Queen Bestla had Jotun blood?" Loki asked.

"Yes. Why is that relevant?" Odin asked suspiciously.

"On Jotunheim my behavior would be classified as a symptom of a certain disease," Loki rushed out. "I doubt a quarter portion or less of that blood would have the full effect, but if that is part of the reason behind my Wanderlust then it will be sorted soon."

"You plan to self-medicate on such flimsy evidence?" Odin asked, appalled.

"No, nothing like that. It is just that it is only something that affects the very young and those without a steady paramour. Do you think it is possible I could contract something like that?" Loki asked.

"Yes. Particularly given your changeling nature. Have you turned yourself Jotun for a prolonged time for some reason?" Odin asked flatly.

"It was an accident the first time, I fell through some thin ice and nearly froze to death before instinct changed me, but that was this year. This would have begun while I was still very small, before I started leaving Gladsheim on regular trips," Loki stalled, unwilling to directly ask.

"You changed constantly as a small child into all manner of things. Your Mother and Eir both looked after your health regularly, and would have noticed if you became ill."

"Wanderlust doesn't have physiological symptoms, it is a purely psychological condition caused by an innate stress response gone rogue. Like I said, it is likely only a part of my attitude, but by all accounts you experienced some of it yourself during a time when your parents were in conflict with each other over the war on Svartaflheim. It also explains why you find my behavior so unsettling, as it is based in deep-rooted instincts you would also have. Jotun children are born with a strong survival instinct, to the point of mania given the wrong stimulus. If their current environment is not giving them what they need they abandon their home to steadfastly seek a better life elsewhere," Loki said as if reciting a textbook, unable to look the man in the eye as Loki accused him of giving him a mental condition. "In mild cases they settle with a neighbor who has more time or knows a craft the child is interested in learning, in severe cases the child runs off and never returns home. It is their people's primary indicator for an abused or neglected child, as happy children generally have equally strong instincts to not let their caregivers out of their sight long past what we would consider an appropriate age for a child to cling to his mother's skirts. I'm told they literally stick themselves to their parents with ice like barnacles when out of doors together, even those as old as five and six centuries. I can only imagine how tales of me must color your reputation on Jotunheim; I don't doubt my antics have made it past the blockade. I think even some Midgardians were aware of the time I shipped myself to Vanaheim in a barrel. It is little wonder King Laufey is so unreasonable about establishing a permanent peace. To his eyes, a child under seven centuries old traveling all the way to another realm without its parent must speak volumes about its home life, and not a single word of it good." Loki looked back at Odin from the spot on the wall he had been addressing to find the man white as a sheet.

"You… know this all for fact. Is there something that can be done to cure this before it progresses to mania?" Odin whispered. The show of trust in his assessment felt good. The confirmation that he had enough Jotun blood to make it a plausible explanation did not.

"The information I have came from several reputable sources," Loki assured. "All of them pre-war accounts, most from an intact library heavily guarded, and written in their own language which I have learned a portion of and am still studying. As I said, with a quarter or less Jotun blood in my veins it is likely an unfortunate intersection of that latent instinct and my personality. Once I have a wife, or even a steady paramour, I doubt I will have much desire to wander about. Even just having the Hall set up as my own home should help. You see, the only strong, irrational urge I have beyond my compulsive travels is to make a family, and at my age that fits the pattern all too well."

"It isn't something that was passed down to you in part," Odin declared, then shook himself and hurried to explain. "That sort of survival instinct either is or isn't. I hadn't known of such a thing, and that should say all you need to know about Queen Bestla's interest in passing down that culture to me. If I had known, then I am sure I would have taken your first unscheduled trips much differently. Perhaps it may have taken time for me to realize what pained you, but if I knew it was a sign that you were suffering more than just boredom I would have done something more about it."

"I told Mother about this in jest, and only partly. When I fell through the ice I thought of her almost immediately, and was desperate to get home. When I changed myself in her presence I began acting oddly, and she was startled enough that I was suddenly acting half my age that I did not want to tell her about my speculations," Loki confessed.

"She mentioned your fall through ice to me," Odin nodded. "Though she left out what creature you became, she told me you grew homesick more swiftly when you changed yourself during your travels. The magical spasm you had later greatly concerned us both, for all that you seemed to suddenly improve both in mood and measurable health," The man shook his head and covered his face with a hand. "I did this to you, with the geas. You were rebellious before then, but that was more along the lines of wanting to play instead of nap, and not a compulsion to fight your way free of us. I was worried you could not control yourself properly, as I said before, and only intended to help you find your place. You said there are books?"

"Yes, Father," Loki attempted, "it has a simple cure, on paper. Make the affected child happy, or let it go. I only have part of that text. Much of what I learned on this subject I did not copy down. At the time, I found it curious but not of key importance. It was only later that I realized why the librarian was pushing me to study the condition so incessantly, and by that time I had left his company."

"I will never renounce you," Odin assured. "Let me see these books. We can discuss them together. After all, there is no reason for you to travel long distances to learn more of their language."

"There isn't?" Loki asked. "There weren't any books in the library."

"I realize these words are centuries late, but here they are: My son, I will teach you."


	18. Feeling Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin knows how to be a good father when one of his sons is having lady troubles.

Loki danced through the next few days high on a bubble of happiness so potent that his friends asked him if he was drugged. Not even the sure knowledge that he had a Jotun mental condition could bring him down given how much of a relief it was to have the cause of it directly addressed. Odin set aside a full hour every day near the end of Temple services to teach Loki some fine points about his grandmother's language by going over the books he had translated so far. It was late enough that they could be excused gracefully and early enough that when they were done the best parties were just getting going. Loki's obvious happiness during the lessons was a double-edged sword for the older man, but he took it with the determined calm a ruler had to develop to deal with unpleasant truths. They decided to speak more deliberately to one another until they got to know each other again, and that was as uncomfortable as it was effective. When Loki added a second and third ribbon to his collection, Odin clapped him on the back and said he should have thought of deliberately separating Thor from Loki during the Harvest Festival earlier.

It was a bit strange to spend so little time with his brother before the hunt began. Between the stately gatherings in the Temple in the mornings, his lessons with his father, the refined Temple-organized parties at night, and Freki stealing a him for a quick lesson here and there in the middle he barely saw Thor. For himself, Thor was out and about the city celebrating the successful hunts of others while he waited his turn as was his habit. Loki knew Sif and the warriors Three were with him for much of that, and thanked his brother for keeping her away from him when they crossed paths this morning. Thor had just shrugged as he admitted that Loki's choice of celebrations was more responsible for the separation, but he did mention that Fandral repeatedly asked Thor to drag Loki along to the tavern for at least one evening.

Wednesday afternoon Loki was leaving his Father's study with his nose in one of his partially translated books, taking stock of the red marks from his Father had scattered over the page, when he all but ran bodily into Lady Sif. She was dressed for a party instead of armored as she usually was when she went to a tavern, and Loki spent a moment side-stepping only for her to move with him.

"I have been ordered by my Father not to talk to you until the festival is over," Loki told her when the situation passed beyond amusement.

"Thor thinks my grandfather tricked you into trying to court me," Sif said in an accusatory manner, but the statement of fact was hardly an accusation. Loki blinked himself down the hall a few paces, the heavy wards in the palace making more distant teleportation impossible unless he wanted a migraine. "Wait! I am talking to you."

"I have been ordered by my King to have no further contact with you, aside from what may occur in the carrying out of my duties to the realm until he tells me otherwise," Loki clarified.

"You will explain this," Sif shouted. Loki huffed and turned to her. It wasn't breaking his promise to his father to explain in a semi-public hallway, and he'd been told not to leave anyone thinking it was only the King's will that kept him away from her. This would be painful.

"Thor thinks that way because it is true. That I took the bait is my failure, but I was set up. I don't think Tyr was being malicious about it, quite the contrary, but both the King and Queen disapprove," Loki explained, his face a mask of perfect calm. Behind Sif, the door to the King's study opened.

"Liar," she spat. Loki flinched.

"Lady Sif," Odin boomed, "I have given my son an order. I assume you have a good reason to tempt him into breaking it." Loki's heart raced at the disapproval in his father's voice.

"He has lied to you, Allfather," Sif declared boldly.

"What about?" Odin asked, guiding them both into his office. Here it came, as it always did. She would claim it was all Loki's idea from the beginning, as usual, and be believed.

"My grandfather has no plot to make me a queen of this realm, and certainly not through Loki, as he would never be king," Sif explained. "I told him I would think about accepting his affections while he thought about lending aid to my shield brothers. He…" Sif faltered here, but gathered he courage. She was a strong woman. So strong, but Loki had to break himself of that weakness. "He identified a spell on me to put his natural magical talent out of mind. When I insisted he tell my shield brothers so that they could also be checked, he refused to aid them with the most ridiculous excuse."

"Hmmm," Odin mused. "I had forgotten about that memory charm. It should have broken with the geas, and that was designed to fade ages ago, but it seems the spells have failed worse than I thought they had. Who took it off you?"

"Master Healer Eir did, on the authority that Loki had taken me into his confidence."

"He would have had to reveal a few uncomfortable facts to have such a spell removed legally on that authority, and Eir would not do it otherwise. While the Warriors Three have fought beside Loki many times, I don't think he has ever taken them into his confidence on matters they were not directly witness to. What do you have to say about this reluctance, Loki?"

"You know what my opinion of you was at the time, Father. I feared assassination if the full truth became common knowledge, from every quarter," Loki offered.

"Yes, you did, and still should from certain sources, though I certainly hope your fear of me has gone," Odin confirmed. "No, fallout from careless words is a legitimate concern. Do you have anything else to say, Lady Sif?"

"It was Loki's idea, not my grandfathers," she insisted. "He wanted to court me because he is jealous of Thor, and manipulated my Grandfather into going along with it."

"Of course it was Loki's idea to court you, the boy's been besotted by you for centuries," Odin scoffed. Sif's jaw dropped in shock. Loki remained still as stone. "That doesn't make him the guilty party. Your grandfather knew of Loki's full opinion of you well beforehand, and used it to his advantage. That was the only real manipulation involved, the rest is simply the petty drama of youth. Do you return his affections?" Odin replied.

"No, of course I don't," Sif replied, severely off-balance.

"Yet you mislead him into thinking your heart could be won, if only he trusted information he felt could get him killed to people he did not trust to keep it quiet," Odin outlined.

"That is not quite right. I only wanted to get proper aid to my shield brothers," Sif argued.

"Unnecessary aid, as none of them knew Loki before the geas was in place, and you should have realized that when he told you of it," Odin chastised. "Even if you did not, it does not change the fact that you led him on. So, you must see as clearly as I do why you are not worthy of him. I have put a stop to it, and so it is ended." Sif sputtered.

"He manipulated my Grandfather," she said lamely.

"I'm honestly surprised it took this long for him to try something, and I must have overestimated you if you are so shocked by it." Now Loki's jaw hung open. How could Father say all this so casually? "I only hope your reaction has finally broken his heart properly, so he can get over this silly infatuation. It is not as if Grandmaster Tyr took much convincing, either. As I understand it his help in getting you to court Loki was a boon he gave my son for help with another issue. My wife and I discussed our course of action for a long time, as she overheard the entire conversation between the two of you through her scrying mirror. My decision is final. My second son will not speak to you unless your duties to the realm require it until such time as your King rescinds the restriction," Odin's casual cruelty to Sif was mind bending. It was so often Loki's place to take the brunt of that harsh stare. Even so, Loki scrubbed his face with his hand, mortified by how bluntly it was all being laid out.

"It was all lies, anyway," Sif protested. "He just said those things to guilt me into taking pity on him." Odin very obviously looked over at Loki, who abruptly tried to look as unaffected as possible. Then he turned dramatically back to Sif.

"Lady Sif, unless you want to find yourself suddenly assigned to a distant post for a few months, I would take care with your words," Odin warned. "As far as I am aware, Loki believed every word he spoke to you in confidence without even the suggestion of dishonesty. Very few people are privy to some of what he told you, and should you betray that confidence knowing what consequence it may entail, I will consider it attempted assassination. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my King," Sif said automatically, kneeling down and saluting with her fist over her heart like a soldier.

"Have you already betrayed his confidence?"

"Y-Yes, my King, I have. I told some of this to the Warriors Three," she admitted.

"When?"

"Just this morning," she blurted out. "Thor told us to wait behind while he talked to Loki, and explained that I was not permitted to be in the same room with him by your order. When Thor left, I told them Loki manipulated my grandfather into pushing me into becoming Lady Lokiswife, and that he used his knowledge of an enchantment on me to bribe me into accepting."

"Then you will bring them here now, so that slander can be corrected before it spreads."

"Yes, my King." Sif fled as only a soldier given an order by an angry King could. Loki looked down and tried to calm himself, closing his eyes and counting out his breaths.

"You are shaking like a leaf in the wind," Odin's voice was much closer than Loki expected it to be, and he looked up to find his father hovering. "You truly loved her that much, with how she treated you?"

"She's loyal, clever when she wants to be, and strong," Loki floundered. "Not to mention beautiful and confident. What man wouldn't want her for his own?"

"Wanting a woman and loving her are different things," Odin sighed.

"The challenge wasn't completely irrelevant, and it isn't like she has never been kind to me. I enjoy her company, not only as a shield sister who I know will have my back in combat, but for intelligent conversation in idle moments. Sometimes she seemed receptive, even welcoming. She kissed me during Thor's name-day celebrations last year. I shouldn't have put any stock in that, but I did," Loki berated himself.

"That seems like the sort of thing to put the most stock in," Odin replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"It was a contest I got mixed up in, which was a supposedly impossible feat of strength. I used a bit of magic to mimic a lever in order to complete the challenge," Loki explained, biting down his initial instinct to be vague. It was hard, laying his inner thoughts bare so often made him feel horribly exposed, but he wanted to close the gap between them and neither of them had a better idea of how to go about that. At least he could tell Odin was having similar difficulty spreading out his thoughts into longer than necessary explanations, and Odin was highly unlikely to spread these embarrassments around. "I lifted a dining hall table with a whole boar on it to eye level by gripping one end of the table after even Thor couldn't get the far end properly off the ground. I'd expected her to spurn me, even told her I bent the rules too far to expect a reward, and that I respected her enough that had I known the stakes I wouldn't have cheated. She only kissed me so she couldn't be called an oath-breaker."

"A hot-blooded young man can hardly be faulted for misunderstanding that," Odin sighed. "You see why she is ill-suited for you."

"Because she doesn't trust me," Loki asserted. A knock on the door announced the arrival of the others. Odin flicked a finger and it opened. Four confused men and a dreary looking Sif marched in, the door slamming shut after them on its own.

"No, though the lack of trust would ruin your relationship rather swiftly. Sif is ill-suited to you because she is too set into rigid thinking patterns. You are creative, and while you might benefit from a match with a well-grounded woman her temperament is too extreme in that direction and stubborn besides. She would never appreciate how your mind works, or accommodate your propensity to change your mind. I would not have her court you, even without the way it went wrong," Odin asserted. Only the facts that they were well-trained, had not been acknowledged, and Odin had his back to them kept the others silent. "Argue with me all you want, if it helps you sort out what sort of woman would better serve you to have then that is all the better, but you won't budge me. You will not directly speak to Lady Sif until I am satisfied you can do so without hurting yourself. Now, would you like to remain or would you like to join your mother in her parlor? There are several women attending her with daughters we find less objectionable."

"I'd rather stay and hear what is said, Father," Loki said clearly.

"Then sit over there and observe quietly," Odin ordered. Loki took the uncomfortable chair in the corner with the same closed demeanor he kept up during court sessions.

"Father, what exactly is this? I thought you wanted to keep Sif and Loki apart, and the matter was to be left alone until after the Festival," Thor asked.

"Lady Sif confronted your brother, who kept his promise to me and said only that he was not allowed to speak to her. When she pressed him he kept to those things he was permitted to say, yet she was not satisfied and sought to discredit him when I intervened. I am disappointed. I knew she was a bad match for Loki, but I hadn't thought she was willing to betray her loyalty to the crown over something so petty," Odin explained, his anger clearly ringing in every word.

"I did not, you only told me it would be considered an assassination attempt after the fact," Sif defended.

"Did Loki not make it quite clear that some of what he told you in confidence was dangerous information? Did it never occur to you on your own how such words spoken out of turn could cause riots, or was the mere fact that he'd said the words reason enough for you to disbelieve it without thought?" Odin chastised. "There is a strong line between a man being mistaken about facts and a man deliberately lying. Loki was mistaken about my intentions, because I had not spoken to him on the matter when I should have. All else he said to you was true. Had you only given him the same thing you give every other man attempting to court you, and denied him plainly instead of leading him on, we would not be here now."

"I did no such thing," Sif protested.

"Did you kiss him last year?" Odin abandoned his conversational tone began to interrogate her.

"Well, yes but…"

"Did you tell him plainly that his advances were unwanted, either before or after that day?"

"No, but I…"

"Was it obvious to you that he was making advances?"

"Yes, but…"

"Did you try to use his affection to get him to do something he did not want to do?" Loki had been on the wrong side of that commanding tone too many times, and found he was pressed tightly against the wall in his chair despite the anger being aimed in a different direction.

"Yes, I told you, I did it because…"

"Then you will have nothing more to do with him and be glad for it," Odin declared. "Thor, what did you tell your companions about this?"

"I," Thor started off unsteadily in the face of their father's anger, "told them only that you forbid Loki and Sif to be in the same room together, because he had tried to court her, and you disapproved of the match."

"Lord Volstagg," Odin turned to the large warrior as the next highest rank, "what else was said?"

"Sif told us it had been a plot. Grandmaster Tyr wished for her to be Queen someday, and Loki had manipulated him into thinking that the best way to do that was to push her on Loki," the large red-head said stiffly.

"She specifically insinuated that this is part of a larger bid by Loki for the crown in a public space?" Odin pressed.

"I, well, her exact words were… uh," Volstagg floundered.

"My King," Hogun spoke up, "my friend has been celebrating with his family, and was a bit drunk already at the time." That the man was currently half-pickled went without saying.

"Then speak, Sir Hogun," Odin offered.

"Lady Sif did not directly say that there was a plot for the crown. She said only that her Grandfather had long desired a match between her and Prince Thor, but had been dissuaded from that by Prince Loki. However, she was angry that Loki tricked her grandfather and did not choose her words carefully. That my friend misunderstood her words is understandable," he said with a bow. "It was a moment of high emotion, and not an accusation against the Prince. None of us believe he would ever attack his brother. "

"Yet any passing servant or Thane could have overheard, and also misunderstood," Odin growled. "This inquiry is not concerned with the feelings of a besotted young man being outed and rebuffed, it is concerned with quieting talk that may sew rebellion among the people and invite assassins into the royal house. I will not let either of my sons be murdered because some wrong-headed young woman did not have the decency to treat one of them with the respect he was due." The Warriors Three all looked over at the chair where Loki sat, but he had blended himself into the wallpaper quite literally. Still, he'd rather be a fly on the wall for this than make a fool of himself trying not to wonder about what was going on in here while carrying on important conversations.

"Sif, how could you accuse Loki of wishing me dead?" Thor asked, bewildered.

"I didn't. I just said that Grandfather wished I would be queen someday, but Loki convinced him it was better to push me into courting him instead. I also explained that there was some spell on me, related to the geas on him, to make me forget about his shape-changing, and Loki knew about it. He used that to try and gain my trust, by making me think it was the spell's fault I didn't like him. Eir took it off on his order, but he refused to aid my shield brothers by telling them to be checked for such enchantments. I told him I would consider his affections while he considered aiding them," she explained. "That's almost exactly what I said to them earlier."

"It does imply Loki and your Grandfather are conspiring to make the two of you King and Queen," Fandral admitted. "I know that isn't what you meant, because I know you well. If you thought that you would say it outright, but I was glad there weren't others around to hear you when you said it. The geas really should not be mentioned at all in public."

"Do you know that no one overheard this?" the King asked.

"No, my King, but unless someone was listening at a keyhole I doubt anyone did. Sif was angry, but she wasn't shouting, and we were in a closed room," Fandral assured.

"There is a camp of Rangers on Loki's land right now," Odin explained slowly. "Many of them would very much like one of their own on the throne, and some of them treat the laws of the crown as little more than a suggestion. Their leaders have just deemed Loki old enough to learn more of their special magics, and to be inducted properly into their number. If the less respectable among them thought that they could gain Loki's favor by killing Thor during their hunt and have it look like a stray arrow, they very well may try it. If a man thought that one action would make one of his own King and give that King his desired Queen, what sort of boon would he expect in return? Even if he knew he would have to pay the blood price for his actions, he may still take the risk for the good of his kin. Or on the other hand, what if your words were heard by General Tult, who is cross at Loki already for his son's childhood friend being ejected from the military? Do you think he wouldn't happily attempt to slay Loki by some means, and defend himself using your words, pleading that there had been no time for a proper investigation given how close to the throne the plot originated?"

"My friends, how did it get to this?" Thor asked them. "There is no plot against me. This was about Loki being in love with Sif and Grandmaster Tyr giving him his blessing to try and court her. There was no plot to give her a crown, in fact I know he pushed Loki into acting to try and get Sif to distance herself from me as he _fears_ she wishes to court me and does not want her to."

"If I could, I would order you both to stay in the royal apartments for a time," Odin sighed. "As it stands we cannot shirk our responsibilities. Loki, what do you think the Rangers would say to this, if these words did make it to their ears?"

"The vast majority of them are too virtuous to stoop to such methods. Much of the remainder are too happy, having the law-neutral temperament of wolves and similarly slow to violence when well fed. The few wild cards that leaves are known among them, and being watched by members of the first group too well," the wallpaper replied. "Do you want me to speak of this to Freki or Geri during my next lesson with them?"

"Not unless you suspect it is needed," Odin assured. Loki sighed in silent relief since he couldn't be seen doing it. Odin then turned back to the others. "When the Festival is over, there will be a reckoning for this. There is no great harm done, so long as these words go no further than they have, but loose talk of this type **can** breed rebellion, and Tyr's concerns about the common people rising up are not as baseless as I first assumed. As far as anyone not in this room is concerned, Sif and Loki had been courting quietly for the last year, starting just after she'd kissed him. It is a bad match, and they have been separated. Understood?"

"Yes, Allfather," they spoke in unison, and were dismissed.


	19. An Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a good rival is also a good friend. Sometimes that friend doesn't approve of their rival's taste in women.

Loki made it clear to everyone at the party he planned to stay in the palace instead of taking anyone for a romantic boat ride back to Eldred Hall. It reduced the chance he'd be assassinated and he could claim it was only so he was better rested for the start of the hunt. The parties continued all through the city as they always did, and tonight Loki was in the Mage's Wing as if nothing was amiss. In this vast repository of the realm's knowledge women worked to maintain and improve everything from the impressive golden shields that would protect the city and palace from interstellar attack to the humble sanitary works that kept their cups and baths filled with clean water. That is, when they weren't busy putting on pageants and challenging one another to contests of wit and creativity.

The Festival was a fine excuse for such a contest, and the entire wing was covered in decorations and displays of all types, the party winding through several rooms and down two corridors. From fragile illusions of falling leaves to heavy sculptures made of enchanted bronze, sorceresses of every craft used their talents to decorate every available space. Newly written songs had been tested here against one another earlier in the day, panels of judges declaring which were good enough to be sung on the Temple grounds in the coming seasons. Loki had his own display, the pair of dancing puppets twirling in a tiny globe that cycled through the seasons, no mechanical parts visible despite minimal use of illusion and impressive partially because of it's small size. It would not be judged for any contest since men weren't technically allowed to participate, but he had talked his way into having it sit on a side table among those that would.

Loki sought out his close friends first, and they settled into a cozy nook to chat for a little while. A bit of the usual gossip, though he did tell his friends the 'news' about Sif. When Brelyna caught sight of an apprentice who owed her money she sped off to lean on the woman. Alec stood up shortly after and murmured condolences at him over the news that Loki had lost Sif before he'd properly caught her. He invited Loki to follow him if this party got too dull and left to join some of his fellow soldiers at a tavern. Loki mingled a little, making comments about the art on display and accepting congratulations on his new Healer's medallion. During a lull in the festivities as servants started clearing away the main meal and the bulk of the party-goers got out of their way and onto the terrace he drifted to a room housing some of the more complicated displays. As he admired them Loki's spells alerted him to an invasion of his personal space by a powerful sorceress. He kept his eyes forward as if he was too engrossed in admiring some of the animated sculptures.

"Well, if it isn't the second prince himself," a smooth voice purred from behind him. "Or is he himself?"

"Hello Amora," Loki greeted the enchantress gladly. Now here was a distraction worth having. "I saw your display in the other room. A tree endlessly being transmuted into rainbow crystals as it grows? Pretty, but meaningless. Not your best work."

"I didn't spend much time on it, my other projects have been so interesting lately," Amora shrugged off with a delicate wave of her arm. "Your display clearly took you some time to make. It speaks volumes."

"Oh? And what has it spoken to you?" Loki asked lightly.

"Perhaps I've heard a few rumors as well, and it only echoed them. You are acting so strange, lately. Such heavy-handed moves. It's almost insulting to be called your rival anymore," Amora needled, stepping closer. Her blond hair was braided in a complex pattern with several ribbons fading between bright orange and yellow running through it.

"Perhaps you feel confused by my actions because your information is not accurate," Loki shot back. "Or else you have finally blinded yourself with all the childish sparkle charms and fairy lights your dresses are covered in."

"So you deny you were nesting like a bower bird?" Amora asked conversationally, needlessly adjusting the sleeves of her orange dress. It practically glowed from all the enchanted beads catching the torchlight.

"Not at all," Loki answered casually. Amora was silent for a beat.

"I would not have thought you so desperate," she scoffed. "Begging at your brother's table for scraps of food so unfit for consumption."

"Now, that I must object to," Loki countered. "What foul mess has been shoveled onto your plate, that you are so happily eating?"

"You were courting Lady Sif," Amora accused in a whisper.

"Your information is old," Loki scoffed. "It is a thing well and truly ended."

"You can't be serious."

"She is not so great a prize that I would fight against great odds, or even moderate odds as the case may be," Loki shrugged.

"Yet you actually went after that bitch?" Amora rephrased. It was Loki's turn to miss a beat as he considered the harsh language. He'd been under the impression that the two women had each other's mutual respect, and were otherwise without strong opinion. "What use is she?"

"I admit some confusion," Loki allowed. "I had thought a good amount of Sif's value could be understood by someone with your fascination with mirrors."

"What, exactly, do I have in common with a deluded woman who thinks she can bring back the Valkyrie traditions without understanding the self-sacrificing portion of their ways, or the rich history of how they came to be?" Amora spat, clearly insulted. She must have been in a foul temper to start with, if Loki had gotten to her already.

"Are you not both strong women dedicated to your work?" Loki asked lightly.

"She is an empty-headed fool who covets physical power, without the self-awareness needed to understand her desires are not unique, or that she'd be more fully satisfied by bedding a soldier than becoming one," Amora spat poison.

"Here I thought the two of you got along," Loki chuckled. "It seems you like her as well as you like me." Amora leaned close, her tall frame matching Loki's own height with help from whatever ridiculous shoes she must be wearing.

"Do not compare me to that idiot again," she warned. "Nor will I accept you doing my job for me and insulting yourself by insinuating that a mage needs to marry a soldier. In a contest of wits she arrives unarmed. I would not even waste the minimal energy needed to spite her."

"Sif is not dull witted, though she is rigid and willfully blind. As I said, it is a thing ended," Loki dismissed.

"Ended by whom?" Amora huffed, still angrier than Loki thought she had right to be.

"You are in a foul mood," Loki observed, chancing having her vague irritation focused properly on him.

"By the Norns," Amora muttered. "Follow me, in a moment."

"Pardon?" Loki asked, following after the retreating sorceress out of curiosity. They moved casually through the party, Loki not closing the gap her head start gave her. This was a proper dance through a crowd of prying eyes, each taking a glass of wine when offered and even greeting others along their paths where the less discreet would have pulled him bodily into another room. A half hour's patience was worth a lack of rumor.

The small sitting room she led him to was one of a few such alcoves and meeting places set up in the Mage's wing for the party, closed off enough to allow for the private conversations and debates that would inevitably begin later in the evening while still being semi-public. She was sitting patiently on the end of an ottoman when he arrived, the lit fireplace behind her blending into the color of her gown as if she was part of it. Out of the three available seats, Loki sat on the armchair that most thoroughly ruined the effect, the angle framing her gown against the lavender wall where it was the most obnoxious. The shadow of a smile passed over her face, acknowledgment of his refusal to let her have the illusion. He felt more than heard the lock respond to her magic.

"She gave you the shove," Amora accused confidently, "and you are sad about it."

"No," Loki corrected, "it was deemed a bad match and ended by the All-Father and All-Mother after General Tyr spoke too loudly about things that are too far in the future to yet consider."

"That may be true on it's face, but it is not the truth," Amora pushed. "You defended her, not that she deserves defending. I don't understand. I see how and why you have acted as you have given that you were scorned by Lady Sif, but that logic chain begins at a ridiculous place and therefore can only go through stages of lunacy in it's progression."

"I let myself get too invested in the game," Loki parried. "A bit of sport that I should have been more cautious in beginning."

"Yet the whole thing still stinks of illogic," Amora shot back.

"When have matters of the heart made logical sense?" Loki asked lightly. Amora looked at him for a long moment, and Loki got the impression that neither of them understood the other's current motivations.

"This was a matter of the heart?" Amora asked delicately when she found her voice again.

"What else could it be?" Loki asked her.

"Spite," she answered simply, pausing for a sip of wine before she elaborated. "She's been chasing after Thor in such a shameful manner for so long, making a fool of herself with how she proves daily that her lauded battle courage is so small and limited that she is too much a coward as a woman act on her obvious desires. I would have thought you were the one manipulating her: that you twisted her heart and proved to her that she was a disloyal coward unworthy of your brother's attention. After that kiss you talked out of her last year I supposed you were looking to use her well to warm your bed, and then make it clear she had lost any chance at your brother in doing so. She has been cruel to you enough times, dismissing your achievements despite riding your coat tails in disrupting the assumptions of a man or woman's role." Loki took a moment to think before he answered, both to be sure Amora had finished and to enjoy the fruity blended wine.

"I won't deny much of that came to mind," Loki agreed. "As I said, I let myself get too invested in the game." In answer Amora shocked him by leaning forward and flicking her wrist, a brilliant orange and yellow ribbon knotting itself onto his right ring and pinkie fingers instead of his sleeve in a most annoying way. "What?"

"If you enjoy playing games enough to bed anything that presents you a challenge," she replied, letting the sentence be completed by a gesture toward his bound fingers.

"I thought you found my company repugnant in large doses," Loki laughed.

"What does that have to do with the price of grain in Nornheim?" she asked.

"Let me expand on that. I thought you found me repugnant for what happened to your sister," Loki rephrased, realizing suddenly that this wasn't a joke, though she would not ever actually offer him the ribbon in the usual manner either.

"Loralie… was a good elder sister. She treated me well, and after our father's suspicious death and our mother's drunken self-destruction we had only each other for a time. I loved her, and I miss her, but I know what she did and I can't condone or excuse any of it. Nor will I be made to apologize on her behalf for things that began well before I was old enough to understand them and that I had no part in. She deserves to be locked in the palace dungeon, as a toxic infusion must be kept in a locked cabinet no matter how well it treats a specific disease. Did you know, because of her abuse of love and mind control magics most men won't speak to me in private? Never mind that I have never once touched those spells. Recently the common opinions of me are beginning to mutate instead of fade, flipping the truth on it's head and saying that I disdain the company of men," Amora huffed. "We could be of use to one another."

"I have been ordered not to," he fished around for the best way to phrase this, "engage in any long term arrangements on purpose, privately or publicly, until a certain time has passed."

"A King does not have the right to order such things from his people," Amora scoffed at what she thought was an obvious lie.

"A mother has the right to ask such things of her son," Loki countered.

"That bitch hurt you," Amora shook her head. "I would not have believed it if I had been told, but if the All-Mother asked that of you in a way you are inclined to obey then that is the only possible truth. Tell me, have the last few days been so merry for you because this mess has gained you something worthwhile?"

"That is completely unrelated to romance," Loki declared, back in the game. "You will have to discern the beginnings of it before I will confirm any guess." Amora rose from her seat, downing the last of her wine in one long pull from the cup. Good manners and the realization that that was all the gossip she'd had to play with got Loki standing as well. He pocketed the ribbon, as she had no right to ask for it back and the 'comfort and support in cold nights' she'd offered was still welcome even if it was more literal and not the euphemistic meaning of the thing. When she set down her cup he turned to bid her farewell, only to be stopped by the sudden appearance of her mouth on his.

It was not chaste or kind, nothing like a friendly rival offering compassion to a broken heart should have been. It was a solid wall of fire pressed against him in all the best places from mouth to knee. One of her arms wrapped firmly around his back while the other gripped his hip boldly, and she did not relent at his surprised twitch. The kiss lingered, and he wasn't fool enough not to take advantage of it. It deepened in stages, surprising him each time he advanced that she had not ended it. It was only when a slim hand slipped under his clothes that he remembered she'd locked the door. He made a noise in the back of his throat and she let him have the use of his voice again.

"Amora?" was all his melted brain managed to produce on short notice.

"Nothing lasting or on purpose," she declared, squeezing him deliciously close. "Now shut up and lay on the couch, I'll not have you ruin this dress rolling about on the floor."


	20. A Ranger's Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor finds the Rangers disturbing.

Thursday morning came faster than he wanted it to. He had to force himself out of the bed using more effort then he'd needed in weeks, though Amora was unpleasantly helpful by nagging him to get out of her chambers quickly so she could go back to sleep until a decent hour. He annoyed her by using her shower and dressing for the hunt in the bedroom instead of leaving her to rest or slinking back to his old apartment. She didn't say anything about the fire-colored ribbon he tied to his belt, even after it was hidden under his long jacket.

Loki met Thor, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun at the city gates with his hunting supplies not long before dawn. None of them mentioned Sif to him, instead speaking only of the hunting trails ahead.

The King gave a blessing to the crowd of noble men headed out toward the forests and rivers for their hunt, as he had done every morning. There was something of a rotation in the target animal through the week, though any meat suitable for eating was considered success. Some families preferred fish, others pheasant, but for Thor and Loki the prize was red deer. They started out on a flying ship, the forest beyond Loki's land being their best bet according to the reports of earlier hunters. They left the skiff at a way station at the forest edge, and by noon they were deep in untouched woodland.

"Well, now that we are well away from any stray ears," Fandral spoke up, "shall we talk about what happened yesterday?"

"If my brother does not wish to speak of it, then do not press him," Thor rumbled.

"It's fine, Thor," Loki sighed. "Surely, they have a high enough opinion of Lady Sif to understand how I may have fallen for her, and a good enough understanding of her personality to see why I would try to keep that to myself."

"It ended rather dramatically. How did it come to that?" Volstagg asked.

"Grandmaster Tyr told Loki he had his blessing and would fully support him if he were to try courting Sif," Thor said.

"To be fair, I doubt the Grandmaster knew how seriously I would take such an opportunity," Loki added, kicking a rock from the path. "I confessed to her, and in response she tried to manipulate me. I didn't like it, but I hadn't done anything about it. It would seem at least that conversation had been overheard in full by my very disapproving Mother. Neither of my parents approve of us as a match, and after a few days when Sif failed to give me an answer as an honorable woman should have done Father forbid me from seeking her out. As I understand it, if she had not left me twisting in the wind they would not have intervened at all, and if she had rejected me properly before the festival ended that would have been the end of it. If she came to me without rejection… they still disapproved, so I'm sure they would have said something, but it would not have come down as a punishment, and may only have been a bit of advice to me to proceed cautiously."

"She has been all but confined to Tyr's house," Fandral told him. "I escorted her home after, and explained what I had heard when she refused to talk to the Grandmaster. He seemed just as surprised to hear she expected this was a plot to put you on the throne in Thor's place as we were."

"What was it all about, this manipulation she tried on you?" Volstagg asked. "It sounded like she was trying to get you to do something for us, but I could not follow what you were arguing about." They all looked at Loki critically.

"The fact that I am a changeling had been deemed a state secret when I was small and since a child could not be expected to keep such things quiet she had been enchanted to forget. Until very recently I didn't know the circumstances, and given the stirrings of unrest in the people I thought it best that both the fact that she was enchanted and the fact that the enchantment was removed ought to be kept quiet. She wanted me to bring all of you to the healing wing, but even Fandral has not known me that long, as his family moved to the capital after the spells were in place. I had not spoken to my Father at all up to that point," Loki explained. "Actually, I was afraid of him. I'd drawn a few incorrect assumptions and feared the implications."

"That is an understatement," Thor butt in. "Loki thought our Father put a painful geas on him because he wished he was not born with this ability. Father tried to put it back on him after he'd finally broken it completely and accidentally become stuck as a woman a couple months ago, and the full strength of the spell nearly killed him. That was why he was so ill, and why it was kept secret. Father did not explain himself well at the time, and it seemed to Loki that the spell was designed to kill him if he fought against it or tried to remove it and failed."

"The truth is, he was afraid others would attack me if I was open about my abilities. When I was small, lingering hate from the war with Jotunheim was a serious danger," Loki started to explain.

"Why would anyone connect you to that?" Fandral asked.

"King Laufey is a changeling and Prince Farbuti is a shifter, and they both used those abilities in combat. Add to that, the high-born of Jotunheim are double-gendered. Then there is the disgrace of Queen Bestla, who was the last well-known changeling in Asgard. If I had continued to run off and openly change between species and gender as I had been when I was too young to know better, Father thought my life would be forfeit. He thought the geas had been properly altered for a child's body and would fade with time, so my abilities would come back when I was old enough to understand them and use them responsibly. Unfortunately, the spell was much stronger than he realized and caused me significant problems when it finally began to fail," Loki explained in the kindest terms, watching their reactions. "I had heard only the most damning parts of the truth, and put the pieces together into a far uglier picture."

"The geas could have done Loki significant harm. Well, actually, it did when it was re-applied at full strength from the tattered remains Loki had unconsciously shredded it into over the centuries. He couldn't even stand for days. It reminded me of how Baulder was," Thor said. Loki shivered, and Thor squeezed his shoulder. "We both thought very unkind things about our Father for a few days. I suppose Sif had more faith in him, but no matter how much Loki confessed to her I doubt he would have told her of that darkness. She may not have understood what we thought was at stake."

"You thought the King had killed his own son?" Hogun asked.

"Everyone knows it was suicide," Volstagg corrected.

"If the child's torment was intentionally caused, then it could be taken both ways," Hogun argued.

"Can we talk of any other thing?" Loki asked, fighting the urge to vomit. Thor put an arm around him.

"Sit a moment, brother, I know how talk of him affects you, and your heart has been wounded most seriously this week," Thor urged. Loki let Thor sit him down on a convenient rock. Thor kept him close despite Loki's half-hearted attempt to shake him off. He didn't look up to see anyone's expression. "Loki was with our brother when he killed himself," Thor said, a clear warning in his voice. Someone else's hand pat Loki's back, and then the others moved off a little.

"We should get back to the hunt," Loki said after a little while.

"Indeed, we should," Fandral agreed. "So, you are sure I have no sorcery on me?"

"I can check if you like, but Thor and I met you on the training grounds long after the geas was on me," Loki answered. Fandral shrugged.

"Sif asked me a few questions I thought were odd, but I had thought it was about some of the jokes at your expense. I don't have any problem thinking about your magic or abilities. She seemed frustrated when I told her she was acting ridiculously, but then I was a bit distracted by my own agenda. I have been trying to catch you long enough to say that I am sorry about my part in some of the rumors you have endured. I hadn't realized how childish teasing had grown into something else, or how dangerous things had gotten to for you. After I heard about the trouble with Alec's promotion I asked around," Fandral confessed. "I had just been joking around, all in good fun. Once it occurred to me that others may not be, I felt I needed to check. I made a few leading comments in the company of a few men I'd heard speaking against you. They were willing to talk of how… " the man choked on his words. He looked around and sputtered uncomfortably a little before taking a deep breath and pushing on. "I didn't begin to imagine this would happen, I swear, but they suggested Loki was a threat to the royal family. They spoke of… of the potential for incest, the virtue of assassination, and all the ugly blackness that lives in traitorous hearts. I gave all their names to the King a fortnight ago, and they have very quietly disappeared." The man looked almost ill at the thought, but most of the words swept over Loki like a swift current.

"Incest?" he echoed, numb. "Had their minds been taken by some black magic?"

"One of the dungeon guards came to me a couple days ago," Thor said thoughtfully. "He wanted to assure me that he and all his kind would always be loyal to the crown, and asked if there was something they could do in relation to Loki. I hadn't thought the word choice odd, to say 'in relation to' instead of 'for' when asking how to be of service."

"How did you answer him?" Loki asked.

"I said you were working yourself to the bone in service to the realm, and that they should see if there is anything you or your people need to setup your new household," Thor said. "When he asked if there was anything specific I knew of, I said the last I heard you needed strong backs for demolition work and skilled craftsmen to rebuild a neglected house. I'd brought him into a quieter area while I spoke, and when I thought we were alone I added that we had heard terrible rumors. Not of the type Fandral spoke of, I'd never heard that, but I wasn't specific as to exactly which ones had reached my ears. He said that he and his fellows were aware, and that he took pleasure in correcting such things. I told him anything within the confines of the law was fine with me, if it stopped dishonorable slander."

"I bet he left with a smile on his face, thinking his Prince had just given him permission to use all the tools in his chest," Loki chuckled. "I suppose I should feel some remorse over a man's justly ordered sentence being increased accidentally, but I find myself distinctly lacking sympathy."

"Yes, brother, we should clarify things," Thor said. "After the Festival, I will tell Father of the accidental order I gave. I would not want to ruin anyone's holiday with paperwork."

"No rush," Fandral agreed. The others chimed agreement.

A few quiet minutes later Hogun spotted a lone deer track, and the group fanned out to inspect the area and discern if it was a straggler from a full heard or a loner. Loki dropped down next to the trail. He grounded himself by pressing a hand to the soil, then reached out. Clumsy as he still was with these new magics, he found a herd moving through the forest. He did his best to keep the touch of his magic light and easy, moving slowly back into his own skin to avoid startling any wildlife with a sudden spike or loss of energy. He told the others what direction to head and they got down to business. The five of them set up on the edge of a likely clearing, hoping the herd would soon come to it to drink from the stream in it or graze at the banks.

"Good work, pup," Freki's voice whispered from behind a bush; the lot of them jumped at the sudden sound. "Needs practice, but you managed not to stir them up. A good sign for your control."

"Thank you, Freki,"Loki answered quietly.

"You move quietly," Volstagg tried to play off his surprise.

"Like a wolf," Freki said, smile all teeth. Loki smiled at the joke. "Now, how many of them were there?"

"Thirty," Loki supposed.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Freki needled.

"Around thirty of them, grouped loosely," Loki answered with more conviction.

"Thirty-two, but it's your first time actually using this magic with purpose. Now, it will be a little while before they come this way. Your compatriots can keep watch. Take a good look at this tree," Freki ordered, patting the tree Loki was crouched next to. "Get deep under the bark, find out all its secrets."

"What?" Thor asked.

"The trees can talk to those with ears to listen," Freki parried, sliding up close against Loki's side and guiding his hands closer to the roots. Loki could feel Thor glaring at the red-headed Ranger, but it was no different from when their hands had been guided on the training grounds. "Gently, remember? You are used to the riot of your magic, those around you are likely to have quieter minds. Light touch, easy steps, graceful and deliberate motion."

Loki was unaware of the passage of time as he worked to become one with the big oak tree. Freki had to pull him out, shaking him as if from a deep sleep. Loki blinked sluggishly and righted himself from the snuggled ball he'd tucked himself into. The others looked at him with naked concern.

"All back in your own skin, or shall you be sprouting leaves?" Freki asked gently.

"Did, did you, did," Loki tried, the words sluggishly tumbling from his lips.

"Easy there," Freki soothed. "Here, these are your arms, your chest, your legs…" The ranger guided his hands over Loki's body to help him get oriented.

"What did you do to my brother?" Thor asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.

"Nothing. The oak tree had a long story to tell, and he was curious enough to listen," Freki explained.

"Did you know how much it had to say?" Loki finally managed.

"Any tree this old has a good story," Freki chuckled. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. Great," Loki smiled. "Relaxed, fresh, calm."

"Trees tend to be quite slow and steady, and this one had a good look to it. It makes a good contrast for you, since your mind moves so quickly, and so is particularly effective. This is sleep for the soul, not unlike the rest the King takes. There is a risk. I don't think I have to tell you not to try that without someone to wake you before the turn of the next century," Freki mock-scolded.

"Most certainly not," Loki assured him calmly. "I'm going to be cross with you later."

"Are you?" Freki sounded shocked.

"This isn't much different than being gentled by healers. I can't be angry at you now, but when this wears off," Loki warned him, his voice bland and emotionless, "you may benefit from not being around."

"Fair enough, but it is part of the standard training. It is very temporary, I promise you will be yourself again soon, but the peace you feel now can be used as a shield. The heard is headed this way, and you will kill one of them," Freki said gently, his hands still drifting up and down Loki's arms as if rubbing feeling back into them. "With all the exercises you have been doing you are more attuned than you have ever been. There is a danger you could connect to the wrong thing at a bad moment. It is best you are as grounded as possible. What better way, than to give you roots?"

"I will still be cross, I am no berserker in need of being tricked into inhaling a sedative. I would have done it if you explained beforehand," Loki whispered, his eyes scanning the tree line.

"Where is the discovery in knowing what is coming?" Freki whispered back.

"There," Hogun whispered. The nose of a doe was peeking out into the field. They readied their weapons, waiting for the right moment as the herd moved toward the stream. They had gone hunting together so many times that only a few sparse hand signals were needed. It was over quickly, the red from the last of the setting suns hiding the spilled blood in the crimson shine off the golden grasses. Loki stood at the edge of the clearing where he had thrown his glowing knives into a buck's eye and neck, looking at the scene before him as if he didn't understand it.

"Still cross at me?" Freki asked.

"What have you done to my brother?" Thor demanded.

"Do you remember his first hunt?" Freki asked. "Some things look brand new again, when seen through eyes opened twice."

"I am not going to be cross with you," Loki said, his eyes on the fallen bucks.

"I might have let you sleep longer," Freki soothed, "but the herd was coming, and I could not deny the others their hunt when the forest provided it's bounty so willingly."

"Are you well?" Thor asked, shaking Loki.

"I am," Loki said slowly, "and it is fading. I… felt them scream, as they died."

"You heard the others bleat in alarm," Thor corrected.

"No, I felt it die," Loki whispered.

"It's alright, pup. Don't resist it. Weep if you must. You'll break if you are too brittle," Freki encouraged. Loki blinked at him in disbelief. "Clean your kill." Loki moved forward mechanically, going through the motions he'd learned so long ago to clean the fallen animal.

"He's soft again, like a boy not old enough to hold a sword," Volstagg protested. "How is this good for him? He'll be useless on a battlefield."

"He will be all the deadlier, when he needs to be," Freki argued, "and kinder when he does not. That is our way."

"I wanted this," Loki reminded them. "It isn't bad. It is just surprising. I look at a deer and see food. I don't remember ever seeing anything else. For that one moment, though," Loki pointed his hunting knife at the buck Hogun was cleaning, "I saw two brothers cut down together. One does not look at a food and think of its family ties."

"No, we can't if we want to eat healthfully," Freki rushed to say. "You had already touched them today, when you looked at their herd from afar, so your spirit could easily re-connect when you focused on your kill. That is why you needed this numbness. I could not let you connect to them fully while they died, or you would have felt all of that experience. A man should only feel death that close in his own family. They came here to you, as others come before wolves, to fulfill their place in the natural order. Answer me plainly, and without protest. Where does the meat from your kill go?"

"To the Temple, first, and then to the table," Loki answered.

"The hide?"

"I keep that, and the horns, for trade later or to outfit my home."

"The mess from the cleaning?"

"Back into the soil, buried here to feed the forest," Loki answered with a broad gesture.

"Then there is no waste in this, is there?" Freki guided. It was good that Loki's mind was gentled and sluggish. It was easy to be led and hard to argue.

"No, even the bones will be used for stew, or given to the palace hounds," Loki agreed. The others were talking, but it was hard to concentrate on them, Freki, and his task.

"This is a lesson you learned a long time ago," Freki reminded him.

"Yes, it is. Thor didn't see my first kill, this is nothing like it. I was out with Father, and hit a rabbit with an arrow. It wasn't a clean kill, and Father had to help me finish it. I cried for an hour," Loki said, then frowned a little. "I don't think I've ever told anyone that."

"That is the effect of the bit of sleep I guided you into. I would never betray words spoken by a man in such a state. I cried over my first hunt as well, and that was a polecat," Freki shared in turn. "I tried to blame it on the smell, but I wasn't fooling anyone."

"How much longer will this last, and what can I expect to happen when it ends?" Loki asked.

"Only a little while longer. You should be yourself before you are fully done with this. When you sleep tonight, this fresh memory will fade to match your first kill. You will see the similarity in the two experiences, then put this awareness away and be much as you were before. That is the point, I have raised this shield for you that you may remain unchanged by this day. You won't need it after this, as it will all be the same. You will instinctively retreat from a creature in death's shadow, as a child retreats from fire after he is burned, so that its pain will not unfairly pour into you as nearly happened here. This is why I did not warn you of what I was doing. No proud young man of strength would ever suspect he could be made into a weeping child again over gathering a bit of meat, but mark my words: those who refuse this 'berserker treatment' as you called it all end up like your Alf friend and never eat meat again."

"I can see how that could happen," Loki agreed. "Do they still learn not to connect to the dying?"

"It is harder, and sometimes time consuming. Trees are not affected by death around them as animals are, or even shorter-lived plants. Their indifference is what you needed to borrow. There are other ways to learn to keep your magic to yourself, but remember that this is not your born state. You have been reforged and tuned to Yggdrasil's light by the magic you are practicing, and while the inrush can sustain you it can also carry poison. Learning to defend yourself from that is the hard part," Freki whispered.

"I understand," Loki responded, and focused back on the task at hand.


	21. In the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a chat with his brother and the Warrior's Three over drinks and comes to a conclusion about why Sif acted the way she did.

Freki did not stay with them as they made camp. After Loki hung his kill from a strong tree branch and chilled it with a spell, Freki checked again that Loki was well and himself before disappearing back into the trees, promising that they would hunt together again soon. The group had moved to a dryer patch of ground well away from the bugs that buzzed thickly at the stream, something Loki had been too dazed to take much note of until they had arrived. There were a few moments while everyone set up their things before the others gathered around Loki with concerned faces.

"I believe I told you that this is something I have wanted," Loki preempted them, lighting the campfire with a twist of his hand.

"Brother, it was disturbing to see you so… hollow," Thor muttered.

"I have seen you the same, when your battle lust rose too far on the training grounds in the days before you mastered yourself," Loki defended. "It is not dissimilar."

"He kept touching you all over," Volstagg grunted.

"His youngest child is much older than I am," Loki informed them. "His hair might not have turned silver as you would expect of a man his age, but it is all the same as the guidance of a master on the training grounds. Do you not have a moment when you adjust the hold of one of your sons' sword arms that you are invading their personal space, Volstagg?"

"He was pawing at you, and he is not your father," Thor sneered.

"You could not see the magic, and so you will have to trust me when I say I needed him to do as he did, and it was done with all due professionalism," Loki assured. "Father does not know these techniques, and cannot help me in this."

"If you say it was appropriate," Thor grumbled. "It was still difficult to watch you moving about like an automaton."

"I was more taken aback by the prophesy that spilled from you," Hogun spoke.

"Yes," Fandral hissed uncomfortably.

"It was no prophesy. The buck I struck was brother to Hogun's. That is all," Loki defended.

"An ill omen," Hogun's gravelly voice hung thickly in the air.

"If it was my kill and Thor's, perhaps. No, the deer in a herd are all kin. It is simple coincidence those were the words that came to me," Loki said as he busied himself with the cook-pot. The livers and a few wild vegetables would be part of their dinner and breakfast, as the other meat needed to be weighed and prayed over in the Temple. Fandral took the pot from him and pushed him from the crouch he'd dropped into near the fire to be fully seated in the dirt.

"You rest a while, I'll cook," he insisted.

"I'm not ill," Loki protested.

"Didn't say you were," Fandral said lightly, "but you deserve the rest. Besides, I have the smallest kill today."

"Fair enough," Thor said.

"Then I'll take the opportunity to meditate. How about you, brother? Care to join me?" Loki asked.

"Suit yourself, but I'll pass," Thor waved Loki off. Loki moved to one side of the camp. All young warriors were taught to meditate as a way to calm themselves after the heat of battle. It was not something often done after a hunt, but Loki was a bit rattled. He couldn't be cross at Freki for springing this on him, not with how well he understood it in hindsight and how difficult to describe it would have been beforehand. By the time dinner was ready Loki felt he'd mastered himself fully. He tossed his jacket aside as he settled into the fire's glow since it's brown camouflage was no longer needed.

"That is some ribbon you have tucked away," Fandral observed with a whistle.

"It is well designed for the Lady it came from," Loki said vaguely.

"Well, you got over Lady Sif quickly enough," Volstagg pointed out. Loki shrugged and nibbled at his meal. Fandral was competent enough not to poison them, but it was no comparison to a more practiced cook.

"What lady?" Fandral asked Loki. "If she was some dancing girl you'd not call her by a proper title."

"Someone who took offense to Sif having the first go at my affection. I had not realized the pecking order among the women of the palace included an orderly queue waiting for when one of the Princes of the Realm showed signs of being ready for a serious relationship," Loki joked. "There is some fuss about line jumping, or perhaps about her trading which line she was at the front of without going through the proper channels."

"That is… actually quite frightening and entirely too believable," Thor finished meekly.

"I had a fair amount of wine and little desire to protest, but I can't help but wonder how much choice I had in what bed I slept in last night. It certainly seemed like I had none," Loki laughed. "It was a nice surprise, not that I have broken my word to Mother."

"What word?" Thor asked.

"That I would not seek out any romantic relationship for a time, not just for more emotional reasons but on the off chance that I am being influenced by the beginning or ending of certain magics. I think it is over-caution, but Father also wants me to wait until our tour of the realm before I make any solid commitments. I suppose it is not completely unreasonable given what my behavior looked like from his seat. I only agreed because Mother agreed with him, though her reasoning was more feminine and the promise she extracted from me more limited than what he wanted."

"It's insulting to the lass as well," Volstagg pointed out, "if you rebound too quickly."

"I am not made of stone," Loki spat back, "nor do I lack all self-awareness. If a woman replaced me in her heart so swiftly I'd be spitting acid both at her and the man that took up the post. Last night was nothing like that, and done with full acknowledgment by both parties of what it was."

"And what was it, then?" Fandral prompted.

"Hate fucking," Loki said, enjoying the spray of beer that Volstagg spewed into the fire and the bout of laughter from the rest that joined it. Even stoic Hogun chuckled into his cup.

"I… er…" Fandral floundered between chuckles.

"The nature of friendship between powerful mages is such that if someone is to hurt me in a manner like this, there are a number of people who have earned the right and anyone not on that list will taste the ire of those on it," Loki chuckled. "I realize that is not exactly kin to the shining praises usually used to describe dear friends who stand shoulder to shoulder on the battlefield, but you have to remember that everyone in the Mage's wing is in constant competition with one another. In some ways a thieves' den has more camaraderie. There is a reason the Mages' section of the dining hall has many small tables instead of a few long ones, after all."

"I still don't quite understand," Thor prompted with a mischievous smile, but Loki didn't intend to give them the type of details they wanted so easily.

"Each of you would accept teasing and criticism from all the others gathered here, well past the sort of comment you would take from one who you did not count as a friend, would you not?" Loki asked. Some of the nods were more reluctant than others. "I was talking privately with a friend who has always said more words against me than for me as a rule. We disagree often and on many subjects, but not on those things that truly matter and we each value the other's differing perspective. We were having a perfectly antagonistic pity party over how horribly the business with Sif played out, disagreeing on every point of detail while still agreeing that it was a job badly done. Then without so much as a by-your-leave she was atop me and I was suddenly half-naked on the couch of a private sitting area in the middle of a party."

"She resorted to bedding you to win the argument?" Fandral smiled brightly as he refilled Loki's mug of beer from an enchanted skin. "Do go on."

"Would that my wife was prone to the same method of ending quarrels," Volstagg marveled. "Though, I'd not want it done amid other's company."

"I don't know which of us can take credit for getting out of the room to proper privacy before someone got curious over the closed door… perhaps we managed to teleport past the wards suppressing such things because we were working two vastly different methods together," Loki mused. "It really should not have been possible, and I will have to bring the potential weakness in the wards to light. In any case I annoyed her nearly to the breaking point this morning, though if she'd forgotten that I had to be up so early to go hunting that is her fault."

"There was to need to burn that bridge," Volstagg chastised.

"I don't know that he did," Fandral added. Laughter filled the camp again.

"Who was she?" Thor asked pointedly when they finished laughing, brow furrowed.

"I'll let the lady make her name known or not, and admit nothing even in private. She made the first move, and I am bound by oath not to make any move, so the second must go to her by default as well," Loki sighed. "She knows the terms of my agreement with Mother, so it very well may be that she works with that timetable in mind. Word will get out about that soon if it hasn't already, so there will likely be some shoving about at the head of the queue now that a proper starting date has been named. I'm not sure if I am bothered by being treated like a steer waiting for the auction bell to ring or not, to be honest."

"And with that the clock starts on the bell ringing for me as well," Thor grumbled.

"Maybe," Loki shrugged.

"Don't let this all go to your head," Volstagg scoffed, "the future king is the bigger prize here." Thor looked as put out by that as Loki was.

"Is that so, or is Thor the customer browsing through the market rather than the meat to be sold?" Loki proposed. "I've just let details of my taste in women get out alongside a willingness to found a household, and any passing description of Sif includes boldness and the propensity to demand what you want. A contrasting view will be taken of my brother's tastes, no doubt alongside an analysis of other women recently in our company. Thor has been actively ignoring Sif's flirtations for years, and any women going after him will be demur in her tactics even if it is only an act meant to charm."

"She has never flirted with me," Thor scoffed. "Those rumors are unfounded, as you well know."

"Only because she was too much a coward to risk hearing your refusal," Amora's words floated out of Loki's mouth without thought. Perhaps she had won the argument after all. "She has been waiting for you to take notice of her, but that is not necessarily how the other ladies will see things. How others will read this and judge my tastes aside, the truth was that I was the bold one going after a reluctant lady too timid to even make her availability known. General Tyr was at his wits end trying to budge her on the issue in any direction for fear she would die alone as an old maid, penniless after her aging sword arm failed her."

"Sif would not fall to such lows," Fandral scoffed.

"She is no fool to squander her life," Thor agreed. "Such worries are nonsense."

"I can only tell you what I have seen and heard," Loki dismissed. "I know little of her personal finances, but I don't imagine her spending habits are out of line. I suppose Tyr may worry that she has closed too many doors for herself. She has disdained so many feminine pursuits for so long, it might make her later years difficult. Should the Norns be kind she won't die young in combat, and she will need something to keep her moving when her double-bladed sword is no longer an option. Even if it is just having enough good will among the ladies of Gladsheim for them to send her their daughters for self-defense training."

"And how did you fit yourself into that picture?" Fandral asked. "Not that I can't see that she's beautiful, and now that I think about it you had been acting odd around her for… Thor, you weren't ignoring her out of kindness to Loki, were you?" the swashbuckler asked suddenly.

"No, I was as surprised as all of you," Thor shrugged. "Why _did_ you go after her, brother?"

"This can't be repeated to her, you wouldn't pass on such words if it was about any other woman," Loki warned. "Even if what I say isn't completely complimentary."

"Fair enough," Thor agreed.

"She is beautiful, and intelligent if not overly fond of books," Loki began.

"Is anyone, when compared to you?" Volstagg joked. Loki pushed on as if he hadn't spoken.

"At first it was as much a matter of the mind as a matter of the heart, or perhaps I had only convinced myself that it was. I admit, I had an inclination to charm her out of spite and drop her once she'd embarrassed herself a little. The challenge of it was part of the appeal, and it seemed practical. The thrill of the hunt was there, but the idea was not terribly romantic when it was first presented to me. I thought it could work out very well, particularly given the issue of children."

"Now that's putting the cart before the horse," Thor laughed brightly.

"Did you want to hear this or not?" Loki huffed. "What happens when she has children? Does she resign from the military? I don't think she would want to. That places a burden on her husband or his family to care for the children, since her own parents are not living, and her grandparents would be much too old by then if they were blessed enough to see them born. That pretty much rules out anyone in the warrior class, unless she goes for a gray-bearded old man. I wouldn't mind taking care of small children, or don't think I would. Given a stockpile of good books and a steady stream of experiments to run, I could be a househusband for a little while. I have a diversity of skill that allows me to do such things, though I would need the lady to do her share. Sif could get a similar balance of responsibilities from many landed men, as their positions require them to remain in the home."

"All this practical rationalization," Volstagg grunted, "is irrelevant."

"I loved the idea of the lady, the dream of what might have been," Loki confessed, "and not all of the woman as she is now. I am in earnest when I say I want children sooner rather than later. No matter how you dismiss my words you cannot change their truth."

"Carve out truth from whatever strange material you like, Silver-tongue," the heavy-set man dismissed.

"Don't toss it all out as misdirection," Fandral cautioned. "You'll miss what he said that was true if you do that. He wasn't in love with our Sif, just with the image of her he'd made up in his mind. That's a common enough failing. I'm quite guilty of it myself, from time to time, although in this case he should have known her well enough not to make the mistake."

"I'll say again that I am being earnest about what I want. The warrior class, by virtue of its men being sent away to war, encourages sons to wait to begin families and daughters to find older husbands of high rank - a rank that both proves that they have the skill to be less likely to die swiftly in battle and provides a larger pile of coin in the case of such tragedy," Loki pointed out. "That has trickled down into the merchant class a bit, but adopting the fashions of the high-born only goes so far. The average age for marriage is the same if you look at the women, and the census takers only report the numbers in those terms, but the age gap between husband and wife is where the differences can be seen. My stated desires _are_ out of the ordinary for a man of high birth, but not on a larger scale. The majority of married couples in Asgard are wed before they reach fourteen centuries, are within a century of one another, and have their first child not long after the union."

"While this is a fine lecture about the state of the realm," Thor jumped in, "I think we get the point. You aren't going to give us any of the juicy details."

"Sif let me kiss her hand in private the once," Loki said flatly, rolling his eyes. "There is nothing juicy to share."

"That can't be all it was," Thor asserted.

"I flirted, she didn't push me aside. The romantic parts were just that: an innocently sweet and ultimately one-sided romance. It was never about lust. I let myself get carried away with dreams and trusted her when I should not have," Loki grumbled.

"Now that goes too far," Volstagg cautioned. "You can't imply she is untrustworthy. She is an honest young lass, as true as any when she gives her word."

"And are her silences just as honest?" Loki seethed. "Does she always speak when she should, or can she lie by remaining silent and still be counted as honest? She did not tell me that the offers I made were not welcome. In some ways she went so far as to actively tell me otherwise, begging my patience as she considered how quickly she wished to start on such a path and admitting she had not thought much of what her future will be beyond dedicating her life to the military for the next few years. How else should I take such a request, made immediately after offering her my heart, but to assume she meant to give me a fair chance at her affection? The way my parents see it, Sif sought to use me from the start, to what end I don't know."

"She said you were using her," Fandral said apologetically.

"I don't even know how that leap of logic can be made," Loki sighed. "I can only guess that she picked through my words and chose which ones she would and would not consider with the aid of dice, to say what she has with such deluded conviction. And to what end would I use her? I clearly stated what I intended and very clearly laid out all my thoughts on the matter, including that I mean to support Thor's coronation whole-heartedly. If I had thought she hated me so much, I would have told the Grandmaster to find some other fool for his errands."

"It is not often I see you on the wrong end of court drama," Thor said sympathetically. "Was it really just her shadow you fell in love with? No night of passion or…"

"Sorry to disappoint," Loki shrugged. He played with the flame colored ribbon on his belt. "This ribbon's story is a tale better suited for drinking after a hunt, but you will have to wait for it. I don't trust myself to talk about it carefully, and have given away enough details about who she was as it stands."

"I think you protest too much," Thor wheedled. "Who are you convincing?"

"Had I not promised Mother and Father I would avoid any and all romances until the Tour of the Realm begins, I'd twist this ribbon into the shape of the lady's name and shout it from the palace balcony; if only to rub Sif's face in it. She… she convinced me, or Tyr set me up for the thought, though I suppose I did much of it to myself, that we were so well suited to one another that only Sif would suit me," Loki's anger over his ruined plans pushed the words out so quickly he nearly ran them together. "I never thought she'd fall into my arms straight away. I knew she loved another and that I would have to work for it. I trusted her to have enough honor to give me the shove flat out if there was no hope, and when she didn't I expected to play a long game where I had a real chance of winning her hand. It had not even occurred to me that she would attempt to lead me on in pursuit of some other goal; I didn't think she was capable of such deception. I don't even know what she was after! Why not lead me to some public place and humiliate me right away, if I was not worth a simple private rejection? She can't have thought that you would try to steal her out from under me… not if you thought… I was happy." Loki ground to a stop as the rest of his mind caught up to the words rapidly venting out of his mouth. Thor suddenly looked a little gray, while Fandral and Volstagg looked awkwardly in any direction that wasn't toward their princes.

"That wouldn't have been a bad plan. Hard to ignore that she is a grown woman who has sexual urges when someone you know well is bragging about having her to bed. The only problem would be in getting Prince Loki to switch horses from a desire to find a marriageable woman to a purely passionate pursuit fit to make Thor jealous." Hogun paused and took a thoughtful pull from his mug. "Though it looks like Sif managed it well enough, to some other woman's benefit."

"I would never have done such a thing with a lady you cared for," Thor insisted. "Dancing girls and the like are one thing, and their own fickle ways are to blame there as well, but I'd not take one you loved from you." Loki focused on Hogun for a moment.

"Sif didn't achieve anything she set out to do, don't lay achievements at her feet that belong to another," Loki huffed.

"Not that you were the one who thwarted her schemes," Fandral chortled. "I can't wait for the upcoming Tour of the Realm now." Loki grabbed the skin that held their beer and refilled his cup.

"With such caring friends as the lot of you at my back, I might as well not go with you," Loki said. The others laughed as if it was a fine joke, and talk turned to the origins of the blue and red ribbons Fandral had on his tunic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking of ending this one in three chapters, but the next arc tags on to this one so well I'm going to keep posting it as the same story. I'm getting close to bits I've only recently written - I only have 7 'finished' segments in Scriviner before things become a multi-colored mess of ideas, unfinished chapters, first drafts, and things that have been ret-conned beyond fitting into the narrative.


	22. Dinner With Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all the buildup, moving properly into Eldred Hall was a non-event. Little changed other than the setting of his morning and evening meals. It felt deeply anticlimactic, but perhaps he'd had so much drama during the Summer that the Norns were spending Autumn re-threading their needles.

After they presented their kills to the Temple and joined in the blessings for the continued prosperity of the realm there was one last grand feast that lasted from Saturday evening through to dawn on Sunday. Their trophies were more modest than they had been in the last few years, but still respectable enough. Loki quite enjoyed himself as he flit from one gathering to another, letting himself be used by various ladies in turn. He made sure not to squander the opportunities as they presented themselves, though he made it quite clear that he kept his oath to his Mother close to heart. Thor might dread the ticking clock on his life as an unattached bachelor, but Loki only found it exciting. His reputation as a lover was turning around as well: a couple of them plainly told him they were no danger to his oaths, as they were only verifying some enticing rumors.

On Sunday morning, Loki and Thor were walking back to the Throne Room for the closing ceremony when Sif almost ran them over in the corridor. Her dress was alight in false flames, her hair a mess of some sticky substance, and the odor trailing after her quite horrific. The echoes of feminine laughter followed her from the closing door of the private breakfast room she'd fled. Thor gave Loki a significant look, but Loki just kept walking as he pulled out all the ribbons he'd gathered this year and made a show of trying to guess which one belonged to the woman that played the prank without naming names. If Thor was so bothered he could open the door and do something about it, but his brother settled for being a bit grumpy that Loki had amassed a more impressive collection than he had. Not more numerous, that was a given, but the wide multi-color fine satin and complex lace ribbons looked better gathered into a handful than the thin bland fabric the dancing girls and other less noble women gave out.

As far as Loki could tell, the last week of September blew by without Odin's promise of a reckoning after the Harvest Festival amounting to anything. Unless he was referencing the cold shoulder Sif was getting from the other women in the palace, it seemed the threats were as empty for Sif as they had ever been for Thor and his friends. Meanwhile, Loki started to get letters from the daughters of Nobles who lived further from the capital. He spent a few long moments trying to place the name Loxleydottir before dropping the steamy letter and flashing a cleaning spell over his hands in disgust, as the girl wasn't even seven hundred years old yet. He sincerely hoped she had not written that herself. A few other letters openly asked his opinion on his brother, or tried to set up an outing for four. There was even a borderline apologetic letter from a young nobleman asking if Loki would disdain covertly being welcomed as the third person in a bed, cosigned by the man's sister of all things. Even given such hazards, Loki thought it was grand to start up so many interesting correspondences. The less welcome letters he saved as valuable blackmail material.

After all the buildup, moving properly into Eldred Hall was a non-event. Little changed other than the setting of his morning and evening meals. It felt deeply anticlimactic, but perhaps he'd had so much drama during the Summer that the Norns were spending Autumn re-threading their needles. A tidy office was set up in an ambiguously private corridor that linked the Mage's Wing and the central corridor where most of the Lawmen were kept. It had quick access to all the areas of the palace he most frequented and avoided sticking him in a place otherwise solely populated by women. He didn't expect to use it much, and likely would only need it for private conversations about official business. He still kept up his regular schedule of attending the court proceedings, though now he used the same lab to analyze evidence as the rest of the sorceresses; his equipment was relocated to one side of the large clean room. That was a demotion of sorts, but he understood why he couldn't remove court evidence from the building and wasn’t terribly interested in fighting for a private lab. He already had additional equipment set up in his home for his personal projects, after all.

The first week of October had Thor over to the Hall for dinner. It was a good deal more hospitable with staff and unpacked furniture, and it was quite a nice evening as he showed Thor how it was all coming together. They even went down to the Amphitheater to see the dense runes carved into the bedrock at its center reflect the moonlight in shifting patterns before Thor left, though he was not as interested in the mystery of the structure's lost history as Loki was. As the month went by Loki enjoyed watching the landscape change color during his morning ride into the city. It seemed like the scare over Sif's careless words had amounted to very little, and while there were still murmurs here and there over the upcoming coronation the fact that everyone in the military loved Thor overran the reflexive rejection of all new things older Aesir tended to develop. Still, little trouble was not the same as no trouble, and the guards handled a few minor incidents before the perpetrators got close enough to do any damage. Loki gladly spewed excitement over the manly ways of the Ranger's magic whenever he could as counterpoint. It would be fatally unhealthy for anyone to doubt how pleased Loki was at the current state of affairs, after all.

The Feast of the Einherjar was largely uneventful, running into Odin's name day much the same way May Eve ran into Thor's. The Old Year ended with a prayer for the dead and the New Year's feast was lively. Tolfdir returned to Asgard with stories of his great-grandchildren just after things calmed down and Loki hosted his Mage friends for a private dinner in his new home for the first time. Brelina and Alec liked what he'd done with the place. Tolfdir assured Loki that any turmoil he felt about moving away from his parents was a universal pain that would pass with time.

The first week of November saw an invitation for Loki to join Thor in a war game set up for Wednesday afternoon into Thursday morning. Thor had neglected to mention this to Loki ahead of time, the message reaching him the same day they marched. Loki looked from the note card the near-illiterate servant slowly sounded out to the blood and hair he was currently breaking down into a dense mist for analysis. It was needed to discern guilt and innocence between two men accused of the same murder. Had the message come an hour ago, Loki could have found someone else to do this. Now his magic was involved and adding another vector for contamination of the sample could prevent justice from being served in a case involving a Jarl's son. Loki spat out a vicious answer for the servant to relay, burning the note while the other man was still holding it. The woman using the station next to him tittered over how proud she will be when her son has his combat trials and begins joining in such things; Loki helpfully asked her if she'd appreciate it if he arraigned for her son's trial to begin with less than two hours’ notice. The thick layer of makeup on her face didn't make her pinched expression any less foul.

Loki received the reply message when he broke for lunch stating that Thor would meet him for their 'brother's dinner' in Thor's chambers. That was a bit better than rescheduling it entirely, but he was still irritated about missing the war game. When he'd finished with his work for the day, Loki informed the necessary people that he would take Thursday off from the court citing the lack of a need for him during the scheduled reports. He spent the morning riding around his hold, observing in person how full the silos were after the last harvest and a few other things he normally would only read about. After lunch he sat in the middle of the cleaned amphitheater. The soil had been carefully removed from the center ring and most of the risers with help from the common folk who claimed some old family connection to the place. The tiny interlocking runes inlaid in the stone there were ancient and seemed to change in different light. He hadn't found sufficient reference books for them yet.

Much of his free time was still absorbed in learning the Jotun language, though his meetings with his father had tapered off after the first couple of weeks. Still, a couple hours once a fortnight of non-confrontational study was more than he'd had from his father in ages. He'd rather have the longer yet infrequent meetings than shorter more frequent ones, in any case. During their last meeting Loki had read out his analysis of a text on the purpose and historical use of the Casket of Ancient Winters. Odin had been mostly silent during the reading, and then peppered Loki with questions that challenged the validity of the text in an effort to separate propaganda and religious belief from fact. It was an interesting political exercise as well as a test of his understanding of the subtleties of the language. It reminded him of lessons he'd had when he was still small on the lines of succession on Alfheim, where straight truth and commonly held belief were imperfectly aligned.

When the time came to leave for the palace, Loki tried out something he'd been practicing off and on since he'd thought to ask Freki how he kept his clothes on while changing from wolf to man and back. He started off at a sprint, wrapping his magic around the simple tunic and trousers he wore, the rough un-dyed fabric and a simple design chosen because any embellishments made the spells harder. When he was sure of the hold he had on all his clothes he activated both his changeling magic and the magic that governed his storage space. The clothing went into storage and his body changed into an eagle. A wobbly loop was followed by a happy screech as he'd not even left behind a sock this time. With less grace than he was happy with he started to fly to Gladsheim, dark feathers gleaming with hints of gold and brown in the bright sunlight. He saw the Bifrost fire, and later noted the figures walking down the long bridge. The large carts and herd beasts pulling them looked like ants from above the city, his enhanced vision as an eagle showing him details his own eyes couldn't pick out from a boat's flight.

Flying was always great fun, and not needing a boat or skiff to do it was wonderful, at least after the initial vertigo settled down. Thanks to the wind patterns over the hills he could glide for long distances now that he knew better than to flap madly and try to force the issue. It was faster than walking, but not faster than his horse and also a bit more draining than he'd expected. Still, he doubted the novelty would bend knee to practicality anytime this century.

Loki was blown sharply off course when he hit the drafts caused by the palace's steep walls and tumbled around in the air for a moment before he realized what was going on. A few ravens took an interest in his inept aerial display, but went back to their usual circling soon enough when he righted himself. Loki managed a respectable landing behind one of the couches on Thor's patio. It was much harder to accurately position clothing onto his body as he changed himself back than it was to make them vanish. He was naked for a couple beats before the soft trousers and tunic wrapped around him again, suppressing embarrassment at how simple they were and the fact that he was barefoot. This was meant to be a private dinner between him and Thor, so what the hell were all these well-dressed people doing in Thor's front room?

"Brother!" Thor boomed as Loki stood up, shoes in hand. "I did not see you come in!" The bigger man was aglow with victory, striding through the open doors of his front room to greet his brother on the empty patio.

"He flew in," a tipsy courtier informed the assembled crowd, "I thought it was a wild bird after a few scraps for a moment, but it was just the Second Prince."

"I didn't expect you to still have company," Loki told his brother as he elegantly hopped over the couch. Loki settled down to put on his shoes as if it was something he did every day. "Am I too early for our meeting?"

"Not at all, dinner will be up from the kitchens any minute now," Thor said easily.

"Why would we not still be here?" a young soldier asked politely while Loki finished with his laces. Loki remembered him as an incurable gossip back when they were both conscripts.

"Before the war game was scheduled there was a private dinner planned at my home for today," Loki informed the man, "as is our custom as brothers. When he invited me here instead I'd thought it was for the same engagement. May I ask…"

"A victory deserves a good celebration," Thor answered happily.

"Ah, then I am not actually on time, since I have not come dressed for such a thing," Loki replied with a joking gesture toward the simple clothing he wore. "I've been practicing some techniques taught to me by the Rangers today and came down straight from the wind." He stood and took a step toward the door. "You'll have to excuse me a moment while I clean up."

"Nonsense!" a distinctly musical voice cut in. "No proper person would begrudge a man the dirt of a hard day's work. Though I must say it is amusing to see Loki so underdressed." Loki turned casually to see Amora walking up behind the tipsy courtier, her intricate lemon-yellow gown accented with emerald green piping and satin gloves likely the most formal attire on display in the room of men in armor still dirty from the field and courtiers in high quality day dresses.

"Lady Enchantress, I don't remember inviting you," Thor grumbled.

"I was unaware there was a guest list," Amora sweetly replied. "It seemed you invited all who wished to dine with you of a certain rank, or perhaps all those in earshot at the time."

"I would say something about being overdressed," Loki butted in, "but even given my current state the hypocrisy is so great that such an enormous abuse of language might be of note to the Norns. I'd hate to be struck mute over such a thing."

"You talk enough for ten men as it is," Amora teased with a sly smile. "I enjoy silencing you." The soldier Loki was planning to get information from edged away from the sorceress. An acceptable loss.

"I'd rather see you leave than spend the evening spreading insults," Thor warned.

"I'd rather see a Prince keep his word than break it, but what can I do?" Amora sighed. "I must play the hand I have, knowing what is really true."

"Watch your tongue, Enchantress," Thor threatened. "My brother has done nothing against you this day."

"You are always so sure you're the one in the right. So quick to judge and put up a fight." Amora replied, her honeyed voice coloring with disappointment. She huffed at the hard look Thor was giving her, dropping the sing-song taunt. "How about I stand near Prince Loki, and our inappropriately formal and informal outfits can cancel one another out?"

"Thor, let her have me," Loki whispered. Thor looked at him and frowned.

"What did you do?" Thor asked loud enough for the whole room.

"I showed up wearing rough hunting clothes to an unexpected party, and then watched as you were invited to start flyting by my friend," Loki said with perfect accuracy, then lowered his voice for only Thor's ears. "You are sticking your shield between me and a maiden." The hackneyed old warning between soldiers getting in the way of each other's pursuit of women's affection should have lit the necessary lights in Thor's mind, but it only twisted the blond man's face into confusion.

"You're not serious," Thor accused.

"She won our last argument; I don't need saving from the rematch," Loki said loudly with a shrug, hoping against reason that Thor would realize Amora was angry for Loki, and not at him. When he judged that Thor was only going to prolong the spectacle Loki turned to link arms with Amora.

"This isn't going to stain my dress?" Amora asked with a look down at the uneven coloring of Loki's sleeve, which she must have known was natural to the fiber.

"I would have use of my brother's company, first," Thor objected.

"Then I'll go try and bend logic in on itself without help," Amora scoffed as she marched off. Loki gave Thor a very sour look.

"What?" Loki asked flatly.

"Was she not insulting you?" Thor asked in the same loud voice that utterly ignored the gossips hanging off their words, walking Loki over to a selection of drinks and appetizers like a good host.

"Not me," Loki said in a much softer voice and a small shake of his head. "What is it you want so badly?"

"You were the one who insisted on these monthly visits," Thor pointed out.

"Yes, and I'd also have liked to escort Amora out and then go to get some finer clothes on first. As you should know, Mother insisted I keep a couple changes of clothes in my old apartment, so it won't be a moment."

"It is just a few shield-brothers who were part of the war game, all dressed as we were the rest of the day. We overwhelmed the opposing line. You should have been there. We were set up along the…," Thor wound up to start telling the tale of triumph.

"You didn't give me enough time. I was in the middle of a trial finding, with my hands quite literally full of the blood of the guilty when your message arrived," Loki said loudly as he moved away from the sideboard. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm not standing about dressed like a farm boy amid all these armored men."

"Don't be so angry at your brother that you came poorly dressed," Loki heard a lieutenant grumble.

"I came dressed to break bread with my brother after a hard day's labor, which is not at all the same as dining with the future King of the Realm," Loki snapped as he walked passed. Amora was waiting for him at the door.

"Penny in the air?" she asked when the door closed behind them.

"Stuck on the ceiling, I think," Loki sighed.

"There is a fortune stuck to Thor's ceiling."

"Don't be unkind, he simply has made certain judgments about our friendship based on events from centuries ago and has not yet been prompted to question them," Loki defended.

"He does not re-think anything unless prompted. That is a poor quality for a man of his station. You do see that," Amora stated.

"Yes, I do, but it is already being handled by forces with greater pull than either of us alone," Loki allowed. Amora nodded, walking confidently into the front room of Loki's old apartment. All the barren shelves and tables made the room feel hollow despite the additional chairs and knickknacks from his childhood attempting to replace the missing desk and larger collection of personal items.

"So, you can fly," she observed.

"That isn't the impressive part. The magic used to keep myself clothed is a bit more involved than I'd expected," Loki told her with a smile. "Then again, the complexity of flight itself was also a bit startling. I had not put much thought to how birds move through the air, beyond the very basics of aerodynamics that I learned as a boy."

"Is it so hard to keep your clothes on these days?" she asked with a sultry smile.

"I do find myself suddenly naked at the most random times," he smiled back. "Though sometimes I have work to do or promises to keep, and it is inconvenient."

"Even when promises are not kept by others? How noble," she mocked. "I know you love your brother, but I had thought your decision to move out was made in part over his actions and inactions."

"I'd hear your reasoning before I tell you how wrong you are," Loki challenged.

"He does not defend you, unless the slander is so blunt and bold that it borders on obscene. He is accustomed to hearing you mocked, and even enjoys it from time to time. Even if he is biased against me for the same ridiculous reason as other men, he should have seen that as your friend what I said made light of your state of dress and reduced the embarrassment of the situation. He chose instead to see me as mocking you, because that is what he expected to hear. Most everyone in that room will adopt his thinking now that he made it plain, no matter what they thought when I actually said the words," Amora spoke with a put-upon air. Loki listened, backing into his old bedroom door and leaving it halfway open as he went to dress. Amora followed him, still speaking.

"It was not missed by anyone that you nearly burnt off a servant's hand when he brought you Thor's message, or why you were so angry. A few know you well enough to realize the man was in no danger of permanent damage, though I don't think the majority belief that you were angered to violence over this thoughtless slight works against you. Prince Thor himself has likely not yet heard of that, and has therefore not been prompted to re-think his actions or their suitability. He does not realize that he has committed an offense because no one mentioned that they are offended, which ought not to be necessary given the situation. Let me ask you this, had you requested to be included in these war games?"

"I had," Loki admitted as he adjusted how the panels of scale mail hung from the belt over his crisp black trousers. Mother had pulled many of these clothes out of some lost pocket of time; he couldn't remember when he'd last seen this belt let alone when he'd last worn it. He deliberated over what else he would wear, turning a bit to watch Amora in the mirror from where he stood shirtless. Amora hadn't missed a beat as he'd stripped and browsed his closet while naked; so much for that method of weakening her arguments. She _was_ staring at him quite intently, so there was that. "Though it is not nearly so grim a thing as you seem to think. We had a venting of grievances between us, and much of it was settled then and there. He does occasionally miss things, usually quite small things, but even so he is working to correct it. You might bring all this to his attention, if you think I will not berate him adequately when I speak to him privately."

"Will you speak with him privately next month?" Amora asked pointedly. "Or does he know what privacy with you will bring and arrange to always be so conveniently surrounded as he is today?"

"My brother is not the sort to shy from pain or confrontation," Loki scoffed. "Nor do we speak to each other so infrequently."

"There is no pain as keen as the admission that one is wrong for some men," Amora argued. "Even the bravest can flinch from it."

"Do you think I am in the wrong somehow?" Loki asked her, shrugging into a coat he was sure Mother had recently purchased for him. She came over to help with the complex buckles.

"I think it had been too long since you last re-thought the constants in your life, and now that you have begun I would have you continue," Amora cooed. "That includes the constant comparisons to your brother." Loki looked up sharply from where her fingers were playing over his torso. That fit with what the letter from the future had said, with it's warning to change how he measured himself against Thor. "What?"

"You just reminded me of something important I'd forgotten to do," Loki told her, then clarified. "It's just the phrasing, not something directly related."

"Would you need me to cover your absence for an hour?" she suggested helpfully. "Or get something done elsewhere?"

"No, nothing so urgent. Thank you, though, for the offer."

"Someone needs to look after you, you get in entirely too much trouble on your own. I'm frankly startled that you come home unharmed from your ridiculous walks," Amora chided. Loki lent forward to brush his lips against the shell of her ear.

"You are quite mistaken. I have been captured, and made good my escape. I have been injured past the ability to walk and healed myself with supplies meant for patching holes in armor. I have had to hide my identity and play the part of a commoner for weeks in hostile territory. I have stumbled into barren lands, run low on food, and struggled to find a clear path out of the blight. I go places I should not, and I know it, and I have always come back. I know, before I set down my foot in the first step along such paths, that I could meet my end on them. I have come home bleeding and starving," Loki whispered. "So, there is no need be startled at my good fortune, for it does not exist in the quantities you imagine."

"I knew you did not travel safe paths. I did not know you had been so unlucky," Amora admitted. "Or, more properly, that you had not been overly lucky while treading such dangerous ground. I… will have to think on that."

"I would be disappointed if you did not. My travels are important to me, even if it is not the sort of valiant action sung about in tavern songs," Loki told her gently, neither of them moving from the intimate pose for a moment.

"Anyone who calls you coward is a fool," she breathed into his ear. Loki backed off.

"It is also true that few of my travels start out in service to the realm, and they are all based primarily in curiosity. Often the only benefit is to my own understanding, though I do use that understanding when I attend the court. There is good reason to call me fickle."

"But not feckless," she countered. "Only mildly irresponsible with the integrity of your own hide, but that is an affliction well ingrained in all young men. Still, thank you for the information. It will be of great help to me."

"It serves my ends as well to have you so well informed, doesn't it?" Loki asked.

"Perhaps. Now that you are properly dressed I think I shall go have a quiet drink and think over a few things," Amora demurred, fiddling with the small decorative teapot that had replaced the box of cuff links and pins on the bedside table.

Loki went back to his brother's rooms, his emerald leather and gilt scale fitting in much better with the armored men. Thor was lounging on a couch surrounded by soldiers and courtiers, servants flitting through the crowd serving food and drink. Loki chose Volstagg's normal seat next to Thor which was conveniently distant from Sif's habitual spot. Fandral and Hogun had also appeared in their usual seats. If Volstagg came tonight Loki would send him away, as the man had no right to leave the healing rooms. One of his daughters was rushed to the healers with symptoms of dragon fever last night, if rumor was to be believed. Loki hoped it was a simpler sickness, the last thing anyone needed was a plague scare in Gladsheim, but even then, the man shouldn't be away from his family so much. It was an angle Njor wanted Loki to play up in their efforts to divest Thor of his echo chamber.

"I suppose I've learned my lesson on the usefulness of a direct flight to my destination," Loki said as greeting, flopping down into the armchair with the same carefree attitude he'd used earlier. Thor chuckled.

"I do not think I have seen you dressed like that since…" Thor trailed off as he tried to pin down a specific date, "the uprising in Northern Vanaheim?"

"It does not always do to travel in clothes that advertise the size of one's purse," Loki said with a smile. "As you learned when you failed to heed my words and conceal your finery."

"Were you somewhere that dangerous?" Thor asked.

"Have you ever seen a Ranger dressed in finery?" Loki responded in kind.

"No," Thor answered, "but I did not think they had finery to wear."

"With the bounty of the wilds at their disposal? No, Thor, they dress as they do for multiple reasons, cut-purses sitting at the bottom of the list," Loki dismissed. "Now, tell me of this battle I missed. It must have been a fine thing indeed to require all this." Thor barked a laugh and settled into his tale. Fandral added in his own piece from time to time, though the man had been assigned to the opposing team. Tyr was still at work as well, then. That was good news. Loki had been afraid that the business with Sif would alienate him.

Thor's side won, but took significant casualties in the mock battle. The deadly blows were changed to lesser wounds and simple sleep by the safety spells, but even with the protections many of the men Thor felled with Mjolnir were still with the healers. He'd led a bold charge with little finesse and been flanked, but he had been quick enough in the sprint to the first clash that his single force overwhelmed the first of the two enemy units before the flanking unit made its move. Had Loki commanded the opposing side he would have made the 'bait' group much smaller and given the surprise flank the power it required, but then again he would have been fighting alongside his brother this time and not against. Still, Thor had only given his ranged fighters the chance at a single volley, and no kept any at the ready to catch the flanking move he should have seen coming.

"Wait," Loki interrupted some of the congratulations that naturally came when Thor finished his oration, "Fandral was in the front line? Did the young lieutenant put heavy weapons on the flank?"

"Aye, he did," one of the soldiers chirped. Thor and those closer to the Princes knew Loki better and seemed more contemplative. "He sent a hammer down on us fit to squash us from behind, and we crushed them anyway!"

"Well, that was a major error," Loki supposed. "With the terrain giving him a disadvantage in line of sight he clearly had the wrong men on the flanking line, and it moved too slowly. They had to come all the way around from the west side of the hill to avoid being seen, and arrived out of breath and far too late to help their fellows. If the more heavily outfitted men held the first position and men like Fandral ran around the back, then it would have been much more effective. That said Thor has completely obliterated foes who use such tactics against him in the past, even when executed properly."

"You are just sad that you couldn't be the one commanding the other side," Sif offered up.

"I, for one, am quite glad Prince Loki was not there," a deep masculine voice rolled over Sif's. Loki turned to see Jarl Liam dressed in his house's colors, his black and blood chain mail shimmering in the firelight.

"Greetings Jarl Liam, I had not heard you were in the capitol," Loki greeted.

"Is there some trouble that brings you from your lands?" Thor asked regally, sobering slightly and sitting straighter in his chair.

"I have only just arrived," Liam said, and Loki straightened his own spine at hearing his question addressed first. "My family always renders payment when honor demands it, and I do not think there has been such a deep debt in my lifetime."

"What news is this?" Thor asked. Liam gave him a funny look, but stepped forward and turned to address only Loki more obviously.

"You saved the life of my son. I may have removed him from the line of secession, and I doubt I have to explain why to you given how you met him, but there is no lack of love for him in my family. That brigand framed him for murder with so much evidence against him that even he doubted his innocence. More than that, when you wielded the sharp blade of your tongue against him it struck true. It seems to have taken him off the bottle for now, and for all that I wonder if it will stick, it is the first time he has heeded such words. I thank you, for saving my son from the ax and possibly from his own self-destruction," Liam spoke formally, bowing low.

"I accept your thanks, Jarl Liam, though I was only doing my duty," Loki replied with similar formality and a slight incline of his head. "Any competent person would have sorted out the evidence properly."

"Yet a prince was the one to do it, when he was meant to be doing more pleasant things, and it was the words from that particular voice that have struck my son in a place no other has managed to reach," Liam argued. "I have heard that you wish to tour the realm."

"I do, as does my brother," Loki confirmed as he gestured for the lower ranked man to his left to give up his seat before Loki had to point out the breech of protocol aloud. The thin conscript twitched and suddenly rushed to the sideboard as if his life depended on eating a bit of cheese in the next few seconds.

"When my surrogate suggested a few dates, he was told they were unsuitable because they did not allow for two visits to my lands," Liam said, now clearly addressing both princes.

"That must be in error," Thor said. "We would only need one visit."

"Each," Loki added. "I hadn't though Father was serious about it, given what he has said before and since, but Mother was in favor of it. Of the two of them I think she is the one taking a deeper interest in how we set up the tour."

"In favor of what?" Thor asked.

"I was going to mention the possibility to you today, but with the party…," Loki trailed off. "Jarl Liam does seem to have brought confirmation to us that it is happening after all."

"Well, don't leave us in suspense," Fandral encouraged.

"Given that I live in and run my own hold as a thane now, and that Thor will be taking the throne in due time, it seemed more appropriate that we leave Gladsheim for our tour of the realm headed in opposite directions. We'd cross paths in Nornheim or Valdale for a day or two, at least I think that was the plan, and then carry on back to the capital along the other's previous path," Loki explained. "Together yet separate, as it were. I think Mother's layered motivations and symbolism are obvious enough."

"I quite like the idea," Liam offered. "I did a similar thing for my younger children, though they are identical twins and were much younger at the time. You remember my daughters?"

"A skilled painter and a talented singer, they were a delight at the parties Mother held for them," Loki agreed. "Though I admit many of us confused one for the other during the time they were both here."

"They still do that on purpose, wearing similar dresses and swapping hairstyles mid-party. They remember the two of you quite well, and brought several glad stories back with them," Liam smiled as he spoke.

"I would think there is plenty enough distance between the two of us," Thor said, an unhappy crease to his brow. "I'd been looking forward to the trip as a chance for us to be as we were again."

"One last adventure together," Loki sighed.

"It wouldn't be the last," Thor chuckled.

"It won't be the same," Loki shrugged. "It already isn't."

"Nor should it be," Jarl Liam injected. "If the King and Queen think this is the best course of action, then it is likely the best course. Parents have a special perspective on such things, and even at your age you would do well to listen."

"I suppose I can't be upset when it is likely my own doing in the end. Still, with Geri and Freki blessing the land I couldn't justify delaying moving to Eldred Hall until the coronation," Loki said helplessly. "It was both the right time, and too early."

"It was only too early," Thor grumbled.

"That is youth," Liam soothed. "When it ends it comes too fast, but before it is over it moved too slow. Is there anything that I can do for you, in your new home?"

"It is an empty shell still, not a home," Loki scoffed. "I've opened up parts of it that have been closed off and unused for centuries. I have no idea why it is so large for such a modest holding, and it will be quite a while before I find use for it all. I've even considered continuing the tradition of renting some of it out, though I'd have to section that off through the back entrance and it would be a nightmare to rework the architecture that much."

"It is large because it was once the palace," Liam said, his expression open and incredulous. Several heads snapped around, including Thor's. "Do the records no longer exist here? I wouldn't be surprised, when the palace here in Gladsheim was built a lot of the old records were strongly suppressed. There was a rather harsh cleaning of the library, with a great deal of uncomfortable truth put to the flame. A number of historical facts were officially changed, as if one could simply strike a pen through history and alter it in fact."

"The amphitheater," Loki whispered, suddenly out of breath. If Liam was right, then that was the first amphitheater, built when Asgard was founded by Vanir colonists. It was where the first Thing was convened, and Odin had given it to Loki.

"Don't attempt to wiggle out of your debt by dazzling my brother with hearsay about rare history books," Thor warned. Loki took a few measured breaths to clear his head. If this wasn't true Liam would pay dearly for the lie.

"Do you mean the Well of Urd?" Liam asked instead of responding to the threat. "It still stands? Where?"

"I dug it up," Loki mumbled, eyes round with the magnitude of this discovery. "I… It was so magically active I was afraid a simple workman would fall foul of it, so I… I stumbled on it when I'd only just started using Ranger magic. I didn't have any natural protections left after having been broken down and laid bare to the wild, a novice child could have bespelled me."

"What enchantment did it put on you?" Thor asked roughly. "Is that where this sudden fit of nesting has come from?" Loki continued without acknowledging the interruption.

"Then Geri saw me digging at the brambles and picked out a few who were tuned enough to keep their touch light, and they guided me away from it gently to eat and rest when we'd done enough for the day. Some of the common folk volunteered over the weeks it took. More than half of anyone who came up the hill to see was digging. We dug with fingers and gentle spells instead of shovels for fear of disturbing the magic in the stone," Loki marveled. "It had me digging in soil and sediment as deep as I am tall, bare handed."

"To think such spells are active after all this time," Liam panted. "I can't imagine, but of course you were caught in its web. A Prince with your talents came to those lands to set up his house, whatever chance had you walk into its influence would have tangled the Norn's weavings if they didn't set you to laboring over it. I have to return to my own lands swiftly, but if it is not a bother I'd love to see it before I go."

"Yes, and I'd take any documentation you have on it in exchange," Loki agreed.

"I'll have copies sent to you," Liam said with a sharp nod to the servant hovering at his side. "The God of Lies, indeed. The Norn's work reveals itself in such complex patterns." Loki sat back heavily in his chair, struggling to master himself. If it was all true, then Loki was in possession of the original spells for truth and discernment of guilt as lain down into the bedrock of Asgard by the first Volur when they mastered the magic of this realm and bound it to the throne. The runes he'd carefully dug up and cleaned may have created the Odinforce. He felt faint.

"That would be a sacred place, if it's real," Fandral said.

"What is that bint's name?" Amora's voice cut in sharp and urgent, a flapping hand bouncing off Loki's shoulder annoyingly. "The one that always wears gloves, and brings you those silly miniature cakes?" When Loki didn't respond immediately she shoved his shoulder. "The silly twat that doesn't talk much, from the library. Pretty face, ugly name, sounds like Doggy or Naging?"

"Dagney? What about her?" Loki asked.

"Go, flirt with her, she'd be in the lavender room at this hour," Amora ordered.

"Weren't you escorted out?" Sif asked with a haughty sneer.

"Get up, flirt with her, get the library key, and we'll dig through the archives all night. She's soft as butter in the August sun when," Amora cut off her rant when she spotted the elaborate key that appeared in Loki's hand. "That is completely unfair. How do you have an unrestricted key?"

"You do know who you are talking to," Loki joked.

"Well, get up! There's work to do!" Amora scolded. Loki stood up slowly, defying his need to dig through the library immediately only by harnessing the equally strong need to annoy the Sorceress. He made a show of dusting off his pristine coat.

"It will all be there in the morning," Thor argued. "We've barely started dinner." Loki answered that by picking up his half-finished plate, tossing a few bare bones into a handy pot, and telling the servant that appeared at his elbow to put the gravy-covered bits of roast and veggies into a neat sandwich and get it down to the Library for him.

"If you wanted my company tonight, you should have spent a moment planning ahead," Loki said softly, aware that Liam and Fandral could still hear yet having no other way to communicate this to Thor. "Had I been given the advance notice of the war game I asked for, or the private dinner you agreed to, then none of this would have happened. Now, I seem to have come out of it quite well, so I'm not angry, but I would still wish you remembered that I don't live here anymore. I am no longer in earshot of your changing whims at all hours."

"King Odin does make some wise choices," Liam muttered in a gravely tone.

"Good evening, Jarl Liam. I'm afraid I simply can't sit still after hearing this revelation," Loki excused himself.

"Happy researching," the Jarl saluted. "I'm glad to see my daughter's judge of your character holds true, and I look forward to seeing this place myself even if it turns out to be some other historical structure."

"I do hope you mean Amaranth and not Lavender," Amora spoke with her face scrunched as if she'd tasted rancid milk. "You can't put stock in even a third of what that woman says."

"I hadn't thought Lavender quarreled with anyone here in Gladsheim," Liam observed as Loki started for the door. He looked back to watch, wondering what claim over Loki's person she would dare to make.

"Oh, what do any two women our age fight over, besides absolutely everything?" Amora asked smoothly.

"I see," Liam chuckled. "I can't wish you good luck, then."

"I have very high standards for _my friends_ ," Amora countered with special emphasis, "so I think you are wishing me well, even if it is not directly. I have not secured my place at the top of the Sorceress' rankings by being kind to those who don't deserve it. Just as I have a quarrel with that creature over there, wearing a dress as if it were a woman despite having neither a woman's good heart nor a woman's wisdom."

"I'll cut you down where you stand if you don't take that back!" Sif roared, leaping up from her chair.

"That's a man's answer to a contested point of honor, not a woman's, and no answer to what was actually said at all," Amora said with a sad shake of her head. "Weren't you ordered not to enter any room Prince Loki was in until further notice, because you have so little understanding of matters of the heart obvious to proper women?"

"I was sitting here when he came in," Sif defended.

"At a dinner that was first only a meeting between two brothers, and only later became a party, which you knew. Yet you came anyway, knowing he would be here. One must wonder if it was down to your misguided worship of Thor or a need to twist the knife you planted in Loki's breast."

"I did no such thing!" Sif screeched, her hand moving to the semi-concealed hilt in the fold of her dress. A blade caught the light and Sif's sword clattered to the ground, the belt that held its scabbard laying ruined at her feet. A thin dagger gleamed in the firelight, stuck into the arm of Sif's chair. Loki had barely seen Amora draw the thrown blade. Thor looked too stunned to act, looking between the women as if he didn't know either of them. The others backed off, knowing a duel of honor when they saw one.

"You wonder why no man warms your bed," Amora sighed. "It is sad, looking at you. You screamed and cried about how women aren't allowed to be soldiers, making the rest of us seem like we are weak, as if mothers have not been defending hearths since the dawn of history. I don't need magic or blade to kill you, you petty, pathetic parasite. I can just talk at you as a woman sure of her power, and see you wither away in self-doubt. When the twisted vines you wrap around your so-called friends have gone brittle and brown I will see them shatter like fallen leaves in January frost."

"You have no right to make such statements," Sif challenged.

"Try to hurt my friend again, I dare you," Amora challenged back. "Try even once more to curry favor where you are unwelcome, or to seek aid from those you have so often mocked. The way is barred, the gate guarded, and by far more than just my hand. A reckoning for all you have done in the past." Sif wavered, but found her voice.

"I don't know what lies are being spread about me, but I…" Sif began.

"Because you don't bother to attend the functions of the palace that a woman of your station ought to. You are not a woman soldier, you are just a soldier, having none of the skills or connection to community a woman should. What parlor do you frequent, where you could hear the day's news and learn of the gossip that has sprung up in your wake? Or are you unwelcome in those places and unable to join such activities, and go from the training grounds to the tavern like any man would out of a lack of options rather than preference? When was the last time you spent the day with a child, despite your large family? When have you watched over your young cousins, proudly teaching them the beginnings of skills you have mastered?"

"Do not attack my family," Sif raged, bending to take her sword from the floor.

"I daresay Prince Loki has spent more hours telling Temple Stories to your young cousins than you have," Amora spat, the look of disgust on her face clear. "Just by being occasionally charitable to children in the streets, and spending an hour in a public garden during holy days with street urchins."

"That is enough," Loki said, reaching out to lay his hand on Amora's trembling arm. "She knows she was in the wrong."

"No, she doesn't!" Amora argued. "She hasn't the faintest clue how insulting she can be in her thoughtlessness, and that's the worst part!" Loki gave her a brittle smile, looked to Sif who stood with her sword drawn, and then back at Amora.

"I would rather research the Well of Urd with you than watch you dismember Lady Sif," Loki said simply. "You would not be able to do it without getting blood on your dress, and she it is not worth the trouble of getting the stains out."

"Because you asked, and only because you asked," Amora hissed. "There is no path through reason where I don't hate her for the rest of my life."

"Fair enough," Loki agreed.

"I think the other Lady should leave as well," Jarl Liam unwisely suggested with a gesture to Lady Sif. "It is unbecoming to draw a blade in such a dispute."

"I fought in the battle and triumphed, and have every right to be here," Sif argued. Amora looked back at Sif, clearly steaming with renewed anger.

"You can say one more thing," Loki allowed before the Enchantress popped and did it anyway. The permission made her pause briefly to remember her own honor, and she choose her words more carefully.

"Not all fights are worth winning, and not all victories are by conquest," Amora declared. Loki took her arm and steered her away. After a beat Thor caught up to them and walked them to the door.

"Something on your mind?" Loki asked him quietly. Amora opened her mouth and then looked away from them.

"No, Brother, I am just," Thor made a vague gesture encompassing the room.

"You have a sticky ceiling," Amora informed Thor, who went cross eyed with confusion. "Anyone who comes in here suddenly loses some of their skill in deductive reasoning."

"Or their self-control," Loki said pointedly. Amora blushed, a better apology than any flowery words she could have offered.

"I am not sure what that meant, but I am certain it will be obvious immediately after it is too late to be useful," Thor told Amora.

"At least you know the ways you frustrate people," Amora answered. "You can even be forgiven for it by virtue of being endearing and noble about it."

"I think she must be drunk," Loki told his brother in a stage whisper. Amora looked at Loki as if he'd lost his mind. "I'm sorry, but I really should…."

"Go, and take care," Thor dismissed. "We will talk another time."


	23. The Well of Urd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki shows off a little.

There was an unsurprising lack of information about the Well of Urd and the old palace. While everyone knew that the gilded palace in Gladsheim was not the original, and that the whole city was built after and because of the Bifrost, the original location was shrouded in myth and story distorted by generations of politically motivated revision and extravagant retelling. Nornheim claimed they had the original palace as their central castle and several ruins were suggested as potential locations throughout Asgard, but none had any evidence to back up their claims. Loki quickly switched from looking up the history of the old palace to hunting for evidence that would rule out Eldred Hall as its potential location. He found a record of a fire consuming the building several generations back, as well as a crumbling old order to have it rebuilt exactly as it had been referencing 'respect for the past,' but nothing conclusive one way or the other. By the time he stopped to take a nap he could only say that a large, well looked after building owned by a member of the Royal Family had stood on that hill as far back as anyone could prove.

When Loki rode out with Jarl Liam to see the amphitheater the following afternoon the older man paced around making various observations and complementing how carefully it had been preserved. It didn't much matter to Liam if the place was as old as Asgard or not, it was old enough to inspire awe in the historically minded man. He declared that even if this was not the Well of Urd, its construction implied it could be old enough to be made by similar hands. The next day Mother pulled Amora and Loki from the palace library to deal with the crowd of sorceresses that had gone to his Hold to see the circle. She seemed annoyed by the lack of decorum all the way up the hill, then froze when she dismounted her horse.

"Mother?" Loki asked, concerned.

"Sweetheart, what have you found?" she asked, invoking memories of toads and snakes he'd smuggled into the nursery. Before Loki could answer she surged toward the ring of Sorceresses writing notes around the depression in the ground.

"It resonated even before I'd unearthed it," Loki told her. The crowd of Sorceresses parted slightly for them, revealing a pair who were walking in a slow circle holding different colored lights while the onlookers sketched out the changing shapes of the runes. Mother stepped lightly as she walked to the center, lifting her gown the way she did when walking through the Temple's central chamber. The runes shimmered, and the sound of pens scratching paper increased for a moment before ebbing like the sound of distant rain.

"I have made a few observations," Loki addressed them all, sudden silence informing him he had everyone's attention. As he spoke he strode confidently to the exact center of the amphitheater. "The runes do not just react to different light, but also to the phases of the moons. In time, I expect to see that they react to changing seasons as well. From a distance it looked like a natural, gentle depression in the land. The thick overgrowth that covered it obscured its perfectly circular shape and sediment obscured all but a few of the stones on the eastern lip. Ranger magic reveals the stones as brightly lit, not necessarily visible to others yet brightly to those special senses, and I could see it's true shape clearly even when it was buried. It has strong protective magic preserving it from even accidental damage, and I took great care when I helped remove the soil that had filled it in. The gathered sediment was slightly deeper than my current eye level, though not deeper than I am tall in the center." Loki paused and turned so everyone understood what he meant. One of the older women gestured for him to pause as the young man next to her operated a surveyor's scope to measure his height against the depth of the carved stone.

"Some in my hold claim that family members in generations past were married here, on a cultivated lawn of grass, and were surprised to know there was a finished stone structure beneath. Yet no one who came here dared use any sharp tool, even when I had not ordered their prohibition. It was simply understood, for lack of a better description, by all that care must be taken, so the soil was largely removed by hand and gentle magic. I saw no need to uncover the last two rows of stone steps where they had not been naturally eroded clean. I can sense no runes on them, and they seem less well fitted than the rest. I doubt they are meant to be uncovered, and instead merely serve to hold the shape of the soil and sod above them and blend this polished stone into the land. The furthest row that was cleared is inlaid with runes of similar make to those in the center, and I would wager designed by the same hand after having compared the lettering. Yet the third row from the center has a ring of runes that does not match the style of the others, though they are no less complex. There are also more minor rune arrays throughout the structure at regular intervals, and all of them seem quite different. The vegetation that grew here was thick and lush, though the trees were stunted from lack of room for their roots. The plants did no damage to the rune-carved stones, this despite cracking through the gaps in the more mundane risers here and there."

"What spells does it react to?" one voice called out.

"I haven't tried many, and it did not respond to my failed attempts to copy the runes using magic," Loki admitted. "I have been observing it almost nightly, and attempting translation."

"Call a court session," someone eagerly suggested. "A formal inquiry, right here and now!"

"Yes, call a court to order," another agreed.

"Call order!"

"You are Thane of this hold, and Prince of the realm, you have the right! Call court in Urd's Well!"

Loki's mouth was dry, and he looked to his mother. The Queen nodded regally at him and went to sit on the first row of seats, near the knot in the runic design Loki recognized as the 'front' of the circular structure, Eldred Hall rising up from the hill behind her. The crowd of sorceresses was buzzing with excitement, a few pushing to get a better position. Some of them moved into the circle to sit and attend the court session, and the sorceresses shining the colored lights snuffed them to find seats of their own. Those who stood at the sidelines readied fresh pages in their notebooks to write down observations of this test. Loki stood tall on the center mark and drew on all the training he'd had as a boy.

"I, Prince Loki of Asgard, Thane of Eldred Hall, call to order a Court Session for inquiry into the recent discovery of a lost historical structure. Who poses the first question to this assembly?" The formal words rolled off Loki's tongue with precision, and the effect was obvious and immediate. The runes under his feet shone golden, their power bleeding outward to light all the others and climb up the stairs and across the seating areas until the whole circle was lit almost as brightly from below as it was from the afternoon suns. Loki looked at them with widened eyes, keeping his composure only thanks to years spent controlling his reactions during court sessions. Amora, who stood just inside the last ring of exposed stone, cut through the murmurs of surprise to answer him.

"I, Amora the Enchantress, pose this question to the assembly: How may we best organize the examination of such an important historical site?" her voice carried easily, though it was shaky with emotion. "Clearly, this is a discovery of great importance to the realm, and if we do not collaborate peacefully fights over usage will soon begin."

"I, Queen Frigga Liefsdottir, will take charge of this examination if it pleases the assembled. As All-Mother, curating and preserving the history of the realm is my duty," Mother stood and spoke, the runes around her pulsing powerfully when she named herself. Those closest to her feet glowed the same lovely blue-trimmed-gold as her seidr, and Loki looked down to see the tiny runes curling from under his boots were likewise emerald green with golden flecks. The same was not true of the other sorceresses gathered that he could see, though Amora was too far above him to clearly see around her outrageous skirts and no other had named themselves. "We will set up a proper schedule for observation of the changing runes, giving priority to working with the patterns observed under natural light first, with special appointments for those wishing to observe them under different types of Mage Light. Those who wish to study the runes in any capacity will respect the schedule of appointments for such activity, or lose the privilege."

"Are there any objections to this plan of action?" Loki asked the assembly, the words flowing out of him as if he was playacting during a lesson in court procedure. None spoke, though that might be partially down to the echoes of powerful seidr flowing through the stone behind the Queen's words. Loki doubted she would have to enforce her will against any offender after having felt the magic of the realm respond so obviously to her. "Then the matter will be handled by the Queen from this moment forward. All interested in being involved shall speak with her first. Is there any other business before this court?" Loki heard the words he'd heard his father speak at the end of each segment of court business fall out of his mouth with numb incredulity.

"I, Hilda of Larksdale, wish to speak," the woman with the male attendant and survey equipment said, standing as was proper.

"Then speak and be heard," Loki responded automatically, ignoring the numb feeling crawling through him.

"This place responds to and possibly attracts Ranger Magics. Prince Loki is but a Novice in those arts, for all he is a Master of others in good standing," Hilda stated plainly. "While we Sorceresses organize ourselves through the Queen, I would ask that skilled Rangers and Architects also be involved. We should not limit the ways in which we examine this hidden history, as it is a place clearly made by and for a collection of Asgard's people from multiple backgrounds. As Thane of this land, one would expect Prince Loki to handle those masculine efforts."

"Do any others wish to speak to this suggestion?" Loki asked.

"I think it is a fine idea," the Queen responded. "Who seconds it?"

"I do."

"And I!" several voices called out at once.

"Then I shall make the appropriate inquiries and secure the services of skilled men," Loki assured. The numbness was receding, the glow of the runes around him felt powerful and flowed through him as he spoke. "Is there any other business before this court?" Silence answered him. "Then this court is dismissed by the will of… Prince Loki, Thane of Eldred Hall, until such time as it is again needed." The glow of the runes snuffed out instantaneously, with no hint that the pearlescent inlaid runes had ever emitted any light. Loki spent a moment looking down at the white stone in abject disbelief that any of that had just happened.

"That was impressive," Amora said from somewhere on his right. "Aside from the half-second where you forgot your own name you sounded like a Jarl of great power holding a real court."

"Bit your tongue," the Queen admonished. "Despite having no preparation and the stunning change the traditional words caused in this place, Loki did wonderfully." Loki took the hand his Mother offered him.

"I'll be happy if I do not have to do that often, though I expect several sorceresses will beg to observe the runes while they are active in short order," Loki told her.

"I would not want to activate them without cause, or to use it for trivial things" Mother agreed. "This magic is too powerful to be played with casually."

"It is a true place of power," Amora observed. "I am certain all can respect that."

"They will have to, or face my displeasure," the Queen declared. "I wish Thor was not away, so he could have seen that. Perhaps when he is back from raiding that bandit camp, we will have a longer session with several issues lined up beforehand. I'm certain there will be no lack of real issues to put to the assembly, after all."

"Or something to honor," Loki suggested. "The list of the fallen from my Hold could be read for Victory Day, though it would perhaps have been better done for the Feast of the Einherjar."

"Well, we are a few days too late to do it now, unless you are suggesting we wait a year for the next Day of the Dead," Amora scoffed. "I can't believe Brelyna is missing this for fungus."

"She has been keeping that terrarium for over a decade, to ruin the experiment now would be a waste," Loki shrugged. "Those mushrooms might prove to be a powerful anti-toxin source. That said, I'm certain she will be in the rotation of those studying this, even if it is well outside her field of expertise. She'll find a way to make her specialty apply if it means testing my stable's floor for mold spore."

"I think every man and woman of learning will be in that rotation," Mother smiled. "This is so exciting, and the way it shone! I must get back to the palace to contact Frey and Freya. There may be books on Vanaheim that hold additional information about that time period. Oh, just to think that something like this has survived with little damage after nearly a million years."

"I'll escort you," Amora chimed in. "I have a few things I want to get from my room to help measure the ambient energy."

The majority of the sorceresses followed the Queen back to the capital to argue over time slots and Loki hosted the rest of them in his dining hall after sunset as a way to properly send them all home. He wrote a couple formal requests to those he suspected would want to take up the 'masculine' side of things. Some of them were already planning a visit to Eldred Hall. Father had finally gotten around to talking to Loki about alternatives to being Vizier, and mentioned Loki's recent interest in architecture twice during the New Year celebrations. The hint was well received. Gender norms aside, with his rank it wasn't quite proper for Loki to retain his position of analyzing trace evidence put to the court, but to be chosen to travel the realm heading up infrastructure projects he had to go through the process of getting at least one Journeyman's medallion in a related field. Odin made it clear he considered novice and apprentice level training insufficient for such a post, no matter how many different related disciplines Loki had dabbled in.


	24. A Friendly Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gets some advice from the man who has actually raised him.

Tolfdir had only come to Loki's new home once and had not complimented the place more than what common decency demanded. He had also been spending the majority of his time on Alfheim with his family, so it was a bit of a surprise when Sven interrupted Loki's Saturday morning studies to announce him. Loki set down the book on masonry he'd been chipping his way through and took an early tea in his front room with the old mage. The usual pleasantries were observed and the disk displaying the latest images of Tolfdir's great-grandchildren was set down on the low central table to be admired. Then the man pushed up his tan sleeves in a gesture Loki knew well meant Tolfdir expected his next spell to be challenging to cast, his honey eyes hardening to amber chips.

"Would you want to know why I think you have so much trouble with the peerage?" Tolfdir asked him.

"I'm certain it has to do with my penchant for travel, childish sense of humor, and inability to keep my fingers out of other people's business?" Loki suggested.

"No, it's down to you not being like the others of your race," Tolfdir countered.

"As a changeling?" Loki asked, confused and suddenly quite serious. The man shook his head, his silver hair shimmering in the light. Half the man's hair was gathered into multiple braids as usual, but age had thinned the loose layer beneath until it looked more like a delicate veil. The bright light streaming in the windows made it more obvious than it was in the softer torchlight of the palace. Loki flicked his wrist and a thin curtain dropped down to filter the light.

"That was not widely known until recently. The trouble with the modern Aesir, as a race, is a tendency towards the sedentary," the man accused. "The problems you have with the court spring from the fact that you don't suffer from this modern affliction. Your age peers are mostly Journeyman of a single craft or simple soldiers, steadily gaining skill through experience and spending ample time in recreation. Yet here I am far younger - if only in terms of days lived - a master of two magical fields. Others my age with greater brainpower have mastered four or five disciplines in ages past. "

"Yet you are not younger of spirit. Time affects us differently, and that includes mental flexibility in the absorption of new schema," Loki reminded him.

"While some of that is down to the nature of the long-lived soul and the biological difference in the way time affects my people and yours, if you go back into historical records you see that the Aesir once lived at a faster pace despite not having shorter lives. Particularly for young Aesir, before their development freezes into stasis and they serve their military time. Before the conquest of the nine and full vassalization of two realms made this one so overpoweringly wealthy, the Aesir people had to fight a lot harder to stay economically competitive. These days a man gets a job, he does it well and with pride a few months a year, and he spends much of his time in the weeks of celebratory - often drunken - revelry your realm indulges in. Women likewise fritter away their time with pageants and social pleasures. The peasant class don't have as much luxury, but even so they are not in the habit of doing more work than they are ordered to and are just as prone to sloth. They live comfortably, dance and sing often, and trust their Thanes will keep them well fed even during a blight. When proved wrong, they revolt."

"Slandering the race of people to whom you owe fealty is generally unwise," Loki cautioned.

"At my age, I don't mind exposing a few politically dangerous thoughts to the air under controlled circumstance. Even if you disagree, I know you aren't going to kill me without waiting on an explanation for the insult, and you are obsessed with privacy. No one is listening who would take my words out of context. What I mean to say is you are a throwback to the Aesir craftsmen of old, with a curiosity and short tolerance for boredom that will ensure that however long you live, you will always be seeking new experiences. It is most fitting that you should be the one to discover the Well of Urd, but you also remind the rest of the pampered royalty of this realm that if they could just give up a few hours of leisurely distraction a week they could achieve far more than they do."

"So, the trouble lay not with me, but with everyone else?" Loki dismissed. "I have outgrown such pandering generalizations."

"It is the nature of generalizations that the truth of the matter is always more nuanced," Tolfdir countered. "I think you would find you are not so unique in your inclinations, excepting that you were made of stubborn enough material not to be forced into the proper mold by the pressure of disapproval. It is a matter of culture, and a problem of having reached the top of the mountain and discovering there is nowhere left to climb. This is a warrior culture with no one left to conquer. Of course it has stagnated! Unless the Aesir plan to remake Muspelheim into something habitable or filter the sickening forge smoke out of the air of Nidavellir, it is logistically impossible for the Aesir to directly rule any more of the nine realms than they do. How does a military culture measure progress in such a situation? What more can be done?"

"What would you suggest, then?" Loki asked.

"How should I know? I'm an old man. Figuring out what the future's shape should be is for the next generation," Tolfdir grumbled. "So, get busy doing it, and anyone who begrudges you the effort can go hang."

"You make it sound like I'm some great savior," Loki chuckled. "Not that I mind the compliment, but it does put a great deal on my shoulders to suggest I herald a new age of enlightenment."

"Do you think your brother would take up the task? Do you think he will change a single thing about this realm, even when it is necessary? No, Thor is going to go on being the conquering King, and never mind that he's got nothing left to lay claim to. Something will come up; real or manufactured conflict will stir up out of somewhere so long as that is what he wills. He may even lay siege to Midgard in time, now that that tumultuous garden has birthed an organized civilization capable of being ruled. Loki, I know others have sent you letters. I have the privilege of being able to say this to your face without fear of being charged a traitor, because I know you will take my words as I mean them and not as they sound on the surface. Please consider the throne's power for yourself."

"You know I love my brother far too much to ever…"

"You need not take the throne in name, or attack or humiliate him in any way. This rumor of you being Vizier, so you can stand as regent while Thor sleeps, that is a path that can be used. Particularly since Odin isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Just… leave Thor to his distractions. It shouldn't be hard, he doesn't notice the common people unless they are throwing flowers at him and cheering," Tolfdir suggested.

"You sell him short, and insult both of us. He isn't that blind and if you think I will make a puppet out of him you misunderstand everything about our relationship and Aesir culture both. Thor has saved my life in combat, and I have saved his," Loki argued. "We respect each other."

"How often do you complain that he has never thanked you for the things you have done?" Tolfdir pounced. "I doubt you are so sure of his respect for you, though I acknowledge that you love him too much to say so. He takes it as his due that others help him, even when your current rank would dictate that you are his equal."

"I have never been Thor's equal," Loki scoffed.

"That is a lie and it is a crime you believe it, you are both princes of this realm with great accomplishments on and off the battlefield. There is no law in this realm that says the elder child must rule. By every measure not involving the bruised egos of petty noblemen, you have stood as equals since you passed your combat trials," Tolfdir insisted.

"He is not blind or cold-hearted towards the people of Asgard. He loves this realm and wants the best for it, in that we are equal," Loki snapped. "In nothing else have we ever been, and I will not take the throne from him. I do not want it and there is no way I could hold the throne while he lives. He has not paid attention to Midgard for centuries, and putting down the occasional riot or rebellion is more than enough to satisfy his need for combat."

"You don't think he plans to go to war as soon as he gets the throne?" Tolfdir asked. Loki didn't like how confident the man still was.

"I think he enjoys grandstanding, but would not go to war without real justification," Loki said simply, letting his own confidence argue the point clearly.

"Then I ask you to go more often to the Training Grounds when he is there and listen more closely to his words with an ear divorced from your fondness for him. Perhaps you know him that much better than I do, I'll not claim to have spent many long hours in his company, and I may be seeing things in him that are not there. If so, then you should address the fact that there are many who hear and see these same things in him. If it is a mistake, it is in believing too well things he has said many times, and not in our imagining that you would be the better king just because you are not primarily a warrior. Please, do not dismiss our opinions because you think we are only motivated by a selfish wish to elevate scholars and mages to greater respect. My reason for wishing you had been the chosen heir sits on that table," Tolfdir insisted, pointing at the images of his great-grandchildren playing under a blue and yellow tree. "I want peace in the nine, for them. For their whole lives, I want peace and prosperity. What man doesn't, who isn't made rich by war?"

"I am certain that Thor's boasting is only the crowing of a powerful berserker warrior whose blood is hot from combat. Even an hour later, when he has washed off the salt and dust from the training grounds and set his berserker power aside, he does not say the same things. He is as content with the state of the realm as any man, and why shouldn't he be? We are prosperous, both Vanaheim and Alfheim are content with our rule, and the harvests remain bountiful," Loki argued. "Barring some great catastrophe, this peace will hold for many long years, perhaps even through the turn of a generation for my people. Those rumors are alarmist."

"I don't find your reasoning as comforting as you seem to think I should, but I can see I won't get you to agree with me today. I have said what I came to say, in any case, and if it has not moved you then all that is left is to pray for you," Tolfdir sighed, "and to pray that you are right."

"I'll thank you for the blessing, then. Speaking of which, will you be staying in Asgard for my Name Day, or going home?" Loki asked.

"I'll be going back to Alfheim the day after tomorrow, but I wouldn't miss your first big event as the head of your own household," Tolfdir said with a bright smile. "What sort of master would I be, if I missed such an important day for my favorite Apprentice?" Loki smiled brightly at his old Master's words, despite the fact that Loki wasn't technically old enough to be the head of a new house yet. Two and a half centuries would pass soon enough, and he could not bring himself to wish the time would pass swifter in Tolfdir's presence.

"Glad to hear it; I have missed your company of late. Is it just your children that has you going back and forth so often? Perhaps another wedding in the works?"

"You say that as if you believe others have not called me to Alfheim, to ask me in person to have this conversation with you," Tolfdir scoffed. "Truth be told, I welcome the excuse. If I did not have strong friendships here in Asgard I would likely retire properly and stay home all day watching the little ones. Then my wife tells me I'd be miserable without work, and would end up poking my nose into their lives too much and making myself a bother. I can't seem to put up a good argument to the contrary." The old man smiled wistfully, as if enjoying a private joke.

"I cannot wait until I have filled this hall with the noise of a family," Loki confessed to his old friend. "I can be patient, and I'll not compromise on who I marry, but I am solidly convinced that smaller families are sadder ones."

"You're at an age for such daydreams," Tolfdir said airily. "An early age some might say, but within the reasonable range. I've noticed a number of sorceresses hovering around you of late, and a few ambitious artisans besides."

"Any you have an opinion on?" Loki asked.

"Since I've said one borderline treasonous thing today, why not another: Odin should be the man you ask that question to, but I doubt he'd give you good advice. I'd thought you'd mended bridges with him, but things seem to have gone back as they were. Are you still meeting with him at all?" Tolfdir asked with sad eyes.

"I've all but mastered the Jotun language, and have not yet thought of another I don't already know fluently," Loki shrugged.

"He's not a tutor set to teach you a single skill, he is your father. If he is unable to make the time to speak weekly with sons who are not yet fully adults while they both lived under the same roof as him - and that is such a low standard already that I'm not sure how even that is justified - then he should be less frustrated by the loss of respect he's feeling," Tolfdir corrected. At Loki's pinched look he added, "Thanks to your failed courting of Lady Sif and the shouting she's done trying to explain how it was all your fault, a lot of long-standing hunches have suddenly been confirmed. I hate to mention certain past events even so obtusely, but the idea that Odin is not a good father to his children has been whispered since he had more of them."

"I have seen and heard a few things of late," Loki began, steeling himself. "I had attributed the increased questioning of his decisions primarily to his age and worry over the succession, and secondarily to how he reacted to the first by becoming harsher in his judgments. I had not considered it was a way of defending the honor of his… younger children."

"So has he, I think, but he should start to see the more complex reasoning behind it now that these confirmed rumors are fanning the flames. It does explain why he decided to announce Thor's coronation without saying anything about abdicating. I have no doubt he expects to retain power even as your brother nominally takes the reigns. Something I suspect he either does not know you well enough to confidently attempt to do to you, or else knows you too well to try. Thor is a champion, a warrior who has returned from so many victorious quests, but what makes a good soldier and what makes a good king do not necessarily overlap. Prince Thor will need someone to guide him into the role, and now I am talking of how Odin has been a poor father to his elder son. Most everyone can forgive a Prince for being spoiled, you grow up with every luxury after all, but the indulgence that he has granted… actually, to both of you, if you think about it from the right angle. He lets Thor run about and only be a warrior, while committing much the same sin by you. As strict and disapproving as he has been, he has not produced a proper heir to the throne."

"Indulgence? Before my conscription he regularly had me flogged, often for things I did trying to clean up Thor's messes," Loki seethed.

"Yet, when you were finished serving your conscription he never again assigned you grand quests as he did Thor, because you did not seem to want them."

"I became a master of battle magic and have never once indicated that I did not want…" Loki began.

"In this case the only opinion that matters is that of the crown, and that is obviously what he thought of you," Tofdir clarified. "Then he wonders why so many picked up the habit of calling you ergi or coward."

"He most certainly does not wonder," Loki muttered.

"You preferred magical experimentation, explorative travel, study, court drama, and diplomatic assignments, and so that's what you got. He might have said all manner of disapproving things along the way, and he might have overlooked your anger at being left behind on so many quests, but you still did whatever you decided to do most of the time," Tolfdir argued.

"I suppose that argument holds up, so long as the one making it knows nothing at all about me," Loki countered.

"You are more conscious of the politics of your station than your peers, to the point where one might begin to argue that many of the constraints on your behavior are self-made to serve those ends; but in any case, I know your choices were not always as free as first glance makes them look. Of course, it goes without saying that what I say about the King's motives are pure speculation on my part, but I think I know the players involved well enough to make the guess. He indulged and ignored different aspects of both of you based on what he thought of you, and you both have been ill served by it. For all that you have the knowledge and diplomatic skill to be a good king, you do not have the support of those in power or enough trophies for a man of your position according to your culture. The assassin you dispatched on your ride into the city the other day shows that well enough. I have already spoken my opinion of the future King Thor."

"Such villains are a regular occurrence in the lives of the highborn. I would not use such attacks as evidence of anything unless they were much more frequent," Loki dismissed. "I thought we had changed the subject."

"It is all related, unfortunately. On a brighter note, it can be fixed," Tolfdir shrugged, "if you are willing to force the issue, and not allow your regular meetings with your father to wane. You can be quite assertive when you wish to be, and the way you let them walk all over you is the strongest indicator of how much you care for them. Simply take what you want the way you do from others, and demand the same level of regard from them that they receive from you for once."

"Amora gave me similar advice not long ago," Loki huffed.

"She clearly has her own agenda, but in the short term it aligns with your best interests," Tolfdir supposed. "I have to say the drama between her and the Lady Sif has been amusing to watch."

"Do tell," Loki encouraged.

"Not sure I know more on that front than you, but I can say that the rumors about you laying with men have been completely drowned out by talk of how tragic you are," the old man chuckled. "The way it is being told, you've never lain with any woman save for those times you were dunk enough to mistake the girl for Sif, or some other nonsense where you are made into some kind of lovesick pining romantic."

"You can't deny how effective it has been for me," Loki shrugged. "Quite paradoxically, I've never been so popular with the women of Gladsheim. I don't sleep alone unless I choose to during feasts."

"I am glad you are enjoying your youth so much," Tolfdir said with a real smile, "but you do need to consolidate your support while the atmosphere of Gladsheim is so friendly. Even if you are going to back Thor fully for the throne, it will be easier if you have the fruits of you labors to hand in pursuing even so modest a plan as fathering a large brood and raising them up well. The claws of the dragon you slew should be displayed here, not in the palace half-hidden under Thor's trophies, for a start."

"Convince me why that is necessary and possible," Loki challenged.

"Easily done," Tolfdir answered with a nod. "Think back to your combat trials. Think back six months. Remember the constant rumors that have plagued you for so long because you prefer academics to idiots. The position you are in today is much improved, but it is not necessarily stable. You are a Thane, a young man on the hunt for a lady companion, a scholar, and a prince passed over for the throne. You were also recently honored by the only well-respected men of magic in the realm. This current situation is good enough to work with, but it will erode as this favorable gossip gives way to newer topics. You need to attack the sources of your troubles while the wind still blows in your favor."

"How do you propose I consolidate the power and strength due to me without appearing to challenge Thor's claim to the throne?" Loki objected. "It would look the same to outsider's eyes, I should think, if I was to amass any large portion of political capital behind me right after Thor's coronation was announced."

"That depends on the method you use. It has been noticed that whenever Thor leaves the capitol you go to the training grounds," Tolfdir said after a sip of tea.

"Not every time, but I suppose it has become a habit," Loki replied.

"Good," Tolfdir encouraged. "That will keep Odin happy, and also remind people of how formidable you are in battle. You should also insist on taking on the next major quest that comes up. Simply do not let yourself be left behind, or better yet offer to take a few soldiers to handle it without Thor. If you are going to command respect you need trophies to show off to the Jarls and Thanes when they visit, and fresh tales of idiotic Aesir bravery to back them up. When you have a bit of political capital built up in that manner, bed someone you shouldn't and get caught at it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You will need some proof of bravery banked up to pull it off, but if you get caught in the right sort of bed you can banish this ergi nonsense once and for all. You've had a nice scandal over a woman who wouldn't have you, the next scandal should be one who did," the old man shrugged. "One whose reputation is such that she would cry over how you seduced her regardless of the truth of things, so you can deny it and be believed. It would be even better if there was some thick-skulled warrior who demands satisfaction over the trespass, who you can then soundly beat in honorable combat. If you haven't done the proper leg work beforehand they will just peg you as a sorcerer using magic to seduce, or a philanderer not worth dueling for honor, so the setup is quite important."

"I… suppose…" Loki said as he digested the suggestion. He'd thought getting caught in the wrong bed would end him rather swiftly, but if handled properly some of the tasteless letters he had received could be worth more than blackmail after all. "I had thought of a plan already, though it takes a different path entirely."

"What would you rather do, then?" Tolfdir asked amiably.

"I wouldn't say I'd rather do it, but only that it was first to mind. A new king is the herald of a new age, and a time of rebirth for the realm. I had thought I could use a combination of the Rangers good will, the discovery of the Well of Urd, and my well-known love of books to help spark off a round of refurbishments. You are right that this realm has been stagnant. There is much that needs updated or repaired, and lost tales of old that can be rediscovered. While Thor leads the realm, I thought I would lead up infrastructure and research projects to repair and update neglected things."

"So you do want the Viser position?" Tolfdir asked.

"Only after Thor has shouldered the full burden of the Throne for a time will I consider sharing its weight with him," Loki asserted. Tolfdir nodded his approval. "Not that I want such a weighty position, either. It may not even be necessary to have my position formally defined in that way, if I am leading projects in the King's name as a Prince. Also, we can't forget that I am not exactly old enough to run this hold without oversight, though that is a legal technicality as the gray-bearded old clerk assigned to look over my shoulder rarely bothers anymore. I really should not be named Vizier anytime before I am twelve hundred or there will be a horrific scandal over the bending of law and tradition. Even without that, there has been a bit of buzz about the law being bent for me since I have taken up residency here so young. I have been trying to steer those rumors to say it is a compromise so that I would not become a Ranger in the traditional sense, and I started a couple rumors that confuse the order of events for the initial discovery of the amphitheater that have caught fire among the scholars of the realm."

"Is that why you have taken up bricklaying so suddenly?" Tolfdir asked.

"Father told me rather bluntly that if I wanted to work on so-called archaeological endeavors I would need more than an Apprentice's medallion in some kind of construction trade, or he would have to put someone else in charge of the projects even when they were my idea and design," Loki admitted.

"That is akin to saying he is taking that whole endeavor out from under you." Tolfdir sighed, shaking his head in quiet protest before going on. "It's an impossible task, to earn a Journeyman's medallion before the next domino falls. Already, the ruined places in this realm are seeing more activity. Even if it is only guards stationed to stop unauthorized treasure hunters from vandalizing grave markers at the moment, things will start happening on their own in a year or two."

"Then I will be an authorized treasure hunter in the interim," Loki supposed.

"If you can steal that out from under Thor," the older man cautioned, "and maintain ownership of the expedition even if he goes with you."

"I think I can," Loki asserted.

"Good. That can be how you build up your honor."

"I suppose the two paths are not mutually exclusive, so long as I ignore your end goal," Loki said as he refilled his cup.

"Ignore it all you like," Tolfdir shrugged.

"You certainly give up easily today," Loki said pointedly, letting some of his disbelief pinch his brow.

"What do you think will happen in a century's time? Thor will take the throne, reveal himself swiftly to be a hot-headed soldier not fit to rule, and assign you to fix it. If Odin wakes from the sleep before it is fixed he will have to rush to take the reins amid chaos, and he will have to deal with the fallout of having set an ill-prepared man on the throne with only a child to guide him. You would still have the shield of youth to defend you against the failure as long as you chose to use it blatantly. If he does not, then it will be your victory that is the first thing he sees when he wakes. Either way, I'm afraid that what I want will come to pass. You will sit on the throne," Tolfdir said all this with such confidence, as if describing the inevitable cascade of water down a hill, that for a moment Loki couldn't see any other path forward.

"Thor is not so ill-suited to rule," Loki protested. "Beyond that, if I was involved at all in such an unfortunate event I would be blamed for it. I always am."

"There comes a point where even a half-blind man can see the turn of the tide. You may not _keep_ the throne, but you will sit on it. Even if it is just to punish Thor by taking away his toy for a moment while he puts his childishness away and finally starts to grow up," Tolfdir insisted. "If I am wrong, then you can raise a glass in celebration at the end of Thor's first century of peaceful and prosperous rule. So you see, I win either way."

"I suppose it is not a treasonous thing, if you are only cautioning me so that I keep watch and am ready to act in case of catastrophe," Loki murmured.

"I'd hope you would act before the catastrophe," Tolfdir clarified. "You don't need to wait for a lame foal to grow up to know it cannot pull a cart."

"Yet, I would need strong evidence to justify anything I did," Loki reminded the old man.

"I suppose there is some small amount of acceptable loss in the battle against idiocy," the old mage griped. "In any case, tell me about these new studies of yours."

Loki gave a vague outline of the requirements he'd been given for a Journeyman's medallion in a couple viable fields. The apprentice architecture medallion he had signified literacy of blueprint symbols and the ability to draw them accurately. Like with most trades, the journeyman level was a far more in depth study with practical requirements that would take a minimum of a century and a completed construction project to get, but the specialist construction trades were all niche talents and would take less time if he put his mind to one of them. Carpentry was a non-starter since he could shape fresh cut wood with magic with more detail and speed than all but the most skilled masters of the more mundane methods. In the end he'd decided to contact the Stonemason's Guild since he already had some specific training in that field and did not find it as mind-numbingly boring as his other options. He then told Tolfdir the story of Loki of the Outlands and the construction of Gladsheim's first wall, a farcical tale known on Midgard and likely adopted from some lost Jotun or Aesir myth. It wasn't long before they were both laughing loudly at the ridiculous cautionary tale and making jokes about how Loki got his name. Tolfdir favored the theories supposing Frigga named her second child after such a figure as revenge on Odin for being away at war too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seemed like a good place to end this story, as the pace of the narrative changes drastically after this. I have 13 or so more 'chapters' fully written but a lot of them were written out of chronological order during the first NaNoWriMo I used to brainstormed this story, and have since ceased to fit without some serious work. I expect some of them will end up in the Poorly Woven Threads story I posted as unsalvageable in the current timeline. I am 100% getting Steve Rogers and Loki in a dress in the same chapter in the next story of the series.


End file.
